"Dude, is that Mr. Wade?"
He exclaimed. Indeed, so loud.
"Your painting is amazing!"
Once again, he exclaimed. Almost shouted, even.
That day's lesson was potrait. And yes, I was painting Mr. Wade, our Art teacher.
"Thank you," I said. I was sure my face blushed. I noticed dots of paint on the tip of his lips. An odd figure of a man painted on his canvas.
He smiled.
"You should teach me sometime."
YOU ARE READING
He Left Me Alone
Teen FictionHis name was Logan McHale. And i didn't know why he left me alone. Short Story #171 (06/28/2014)