Six years ago, Rey Adams thought she had finally life figured out. Having broken away from her past, her life is irrevocably altered when she meets, a man who is the first person to treat her with kindness and respect. Six years later they're engage...
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Every morning had come down to the same routine since Rey Adams came to Boulder, Colorado, nearly 2 months ago. It was so repetitive to the point where she could map out the entire day without having to account for the unexpected. From behind the walls of her one bedroom, 300 square foot apartment Rey could hear the early morning hours of the constant ebb and flow of traffic.
The sounds of impatient drivers, honking their car horns easily reverberated through the thin walls of her bedroom as if the infuriating sound would give the cars jammed along the street the initiative to move the few extra car lengths down the road.
One would've guessed as much as these drivers traveled their tireless commute to their individual professions that it was blatantly obvious the rush hour traffic was always the same: between the morning hours of seven thirty and nine o'clock there was always a guaranteed blockade of traffic down the main stretch of downtown Boulder.
Despite the irritating sounds of honking horns and the occasional raucous sounds of neighbors, slamming their doors perhaps with a little extra force than needed, and the forlorn essence of seclusion it was all a reassuring reminder that she was away from London. Rey left every rotten memory of the place behind that she considered a hopeless life beyond salvaging, having endured many years of sleepless nights after being placed into the custody of her abusive Uncle Plutt.
The only memory worth recalling within that decade of misery was the hours spent locked in her room of their flat with only the company of her art easel, displaying a blank canvas and holding the paint palette within her grasp, consisting of the various colors of oil paints and a paintbrush in the other hand.
There was a rare moment in which Rey initially discovered her calling to happiness within the early years of living with her uncle. Purposely, she had been trailing behind the blubbery blob that could pass for a man through downtown London.
She scowled in disgust at the fact that Plutt remained nonplussed that his pants were significantly too small to cover his noticeable plumber's crack when she discovered a painter - an elderly man with puffy brown hair and subtle highlighted patches of grey to further enhance his age, sitting by the local corner market with only the company of his easel and paint set.
Rey paused her stride, hindering her from following her uncle as she carefully watched how the man tuned out the world around him with a noticeable impassive expression on his face whilst remaining entirely focused on the blank canvas in front of him. Wordlessly, Rey perceived every stroke the man made with his brush: how he purposely took extra paint than what should've been necessary onto the brush and jabbed, forcefully into the canvas to set up the basis of the scenery and from there on out. She noticed how extra careful he was while taking on the lighter colors, carefully the man grazed the brush over the darker hues of shadow to enhance the highlights of where the light was subtly targeting each object in the image.
She couldn't recall for how long she spent staring at the exquisite piece of work that was of the surrounding buildings in the neighborhood coming to life on the canvas, but it had only been long enough to further pique her interest in pursuing the art.
