Never Seen Anything Quite Like You Too (A The Script Fan-fiction)

4) Setting Up Shop

Siena's POV.

Unlike this morning the cold bitter air did not bite my poor legs to pieces leaving them useless. Instead I felt like I was waddling in the ocean. It feels unnatural and there's no other word to describe it but freezing. But, like most things, you soon get used to the water swirling around your legs and that is how I feel right now. I have grown accustomed to the air nipping my ankles and ears.

My market stall lay untouched as it has been for several weeks. I've spent most of the time in my studio over the past few weeks perfecting my paintings. The bird painting took a full week; all of those feathers take time to paint and make the bigger picture. It's like those who are writing stories. A good writer will spend time over their story and make it their own. They will spend time editing and making it pristine just so that their readers can enjoy their perfect form of art. Some writers make their stories abstract and some add in the tiniest details to tweak the plot or how the reader might perceive what a character is truly like. Well, painting is like that too. I spend time on my paintings to make it something that not only I will be proud of, but something my clients will be proud of too. Something they can hang on their wall and walk past every morning and think 'wow this artist is good at what they do'. I can easily make a painting abstract or I can easily tweak a part of a painting to change the whole perspective of it.

I reached my stall and whipped the damp cloth off of the counter. I placed my travel mug on one side of the counter and placed my five chosen paintings where people could see them and then placed the other five underneath the counter. I crouched below and brought out my money bag and strapped it around my waist.

There's not really much you can do in this business but sit, or stand in my case, and wait for someone to come along and take a liking to one of your paintings or whatever it is that you are selling. I tell you waiting for this is worse than watching paint dry. Something I wouldn't suggest that you do unless you have a high amount of patience and a high pain tolerance.

A guy stood in front of my store staring at my paintings. He was taking particular attention to the bird painting that I had taken an eternity over.

"Good afternoon, sir, can I help you today?" I asked in my best sales woman voice.

The guy looked up and his hazel eyes met my brown. His hair was styled into a quiff and he had a smile on his face.

"Nah love. Just browsing," He said.

Oh my. Of all the accents he had to have the Irish.

He gave me a small smile and sauntered off, just as rain started to pour down. I watched the guy pull up his hood up to protect his hair.

I came to my senses and pulled my paintings out of the rain. The little droplets that dripped down from my little hut that I call my market stall would have ruined my art pieces completely. Rain and paint is not the best pairing. Those water molecules are filled with pain and anguish and as much as you want to, you most definitely cannot defeat rain. It gets in everywhere. Where you don't want it to go. It soaks through everything and ruins everything you have worked for. I absolutely hate how something, just one moment in time, can ruin one's life.