The Art Room

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I've scanned all of my grandfather paintings indeed the man of the paintings but he never ever mentioned me who was the man in the paintings. I try to ask the caretakers but he also doesn't have a familiarity with the man even though, the father and my grandfather are buddies. I assume my grandfather really a very tight-lipped man despite that he's a kind and caring for his loved ones. The father voyages me, to my grandfather's art room.

They already clean it and neat the paint brush and also the color my grandfather used.

The father makes a joke on me that my Grandfather is very vulgar to his room that's why my grandmother always scolds him. He really loves this room, its dwelled to the attic and at the same time, the breeze is delightful and tranquil perfect for me to write my songs. Then my attention caught again by the identical man in my grandparent's room.

"It's him again." I took the canvases from the table.

" I took the canvases from the table

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"Oh

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"Oh... You really an attentive person." The father contemplated at me. "Your father and your old brother always ignore him but you always look at him." He suddenly stated.

"I don't understand, what are you saying?" I questioned in unsettling things in my mind.

"Your grandfather really obsessed to that man. He sold all of his painting except the pictures of that man." He revealed I try to touch the man's face suddenly my heads shift to a windshield laugh resemble.

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