Misfits (#2)

2

I tilt my head, my pinkies twined behind my back whilst I try to figure out whether I like the monstrosity on the canvas in front of me.

See, it could look awfully ugly. A mesh of blues and blacks that could look like I've genuinely scooped up paint and smacked it onto the surface. But if I tilt my head just right, it could resemble a sky.

Ugly blob of blue? Or sky?

I bounce gently from the heels of my bare feet to my toes. A gentle warm breeze glides against my silk shorts.

I like mornings and I wanted to catch the sunrise.

"What'd you think, Ripley?" I look over to my girl and then to my other one, "Leia?"

My ginger hamster, Ripley does nothing but stare up at me from inside her cage, blinking. I nod flatly at her stoicism, "Sweet."

I look to Leia, my sphynx cat who is as grumpy as ever. She's not the prettiest girl but she's mine and I adore her where she lays curled up within herself on the windowsill.

She mewls and then promptly stands up, turns so her back is to me and lays back down.

The room starts to glow with the mellow orange from the sunrise so I pick up the canvas, setting it besides all my other half-finished ones that I've deemed okay enough. I sit myself up onto the small windowsill and lift up Leia.

She may be grumpy but she's got a little softspot for me. An absolute sucker for cuddles so when I set her in my lap, she curls up against me as I scratch behind her ears.

Leia rests her paws on my stomach and looks right up to me. I smile and kiss her head, "Hey, girl. You're glowing. Sun looks great on you."

She yawns. I take that as a thank you and lift her up to cradle, "I wanna rewatch the first season of Battlestar Galactica tonight. You gotta keep me company."

When she yawns again, I grin. Cos that's definitely a yes. None of my brothers like it and Leia likes to sit on my stomach whilst I commentate. On occasion. I'm not a crazy person. I just have a lot of thoughts and a mouth that needs to let them out sometimes.

"My most loyal companion." I scratch behind her ears. Look at her. I don't get how people can think she's only grumpy.

I look back out to the view and there's one prevalent thing. The quiet. No bustle disrupting nature's, like the world's stopped to accommodate the sunrise. It's why I've always liked sunrises. It feels sort of disrespectful being asleep whilst it makes its return. Pretty enough to be gawked at, not ignored.

Mom doesn't like that theory but dad did.

I remember father telling me the story of Amory Mansion, one morning when we'd laid out a blanket right at the front of the gardens to watch the sunrise.

My great grandfather flew over designated artists and architects from around the world, appointing them to the job all those years ago. French, swiss, german - there's a photograph of the renowned team that had designed Amory Manor. They'd created a beauty unparalleled, which was my grandfather's ultimate desire.

Amory Manor's more of an art piece, than a home.

And this is the only room in all of Amory Manor that's cramped.

Sitting on the highest floor, it overlooks the small pond that's also quite hidden. Algae grows over it, pillars surround it, ivy crawling up their sides and a distance away, a gazebo sits placidly on a platform.

This little pond around the back and behind a curve of the house, nobody sees. I like it for the fact it's overlooked but still glows under the sun. Forgotten but still manages to catch someone's eye, even if it's just mine.