Chernobyl Graveyard (Available Now at my lulu page)

Chernobyl Graveyard, chapter 2.

The next morning I took my paintings down to the city center where they paid me generously. I was excited to have money that I could spend. I went home and tucked away enough for two month’s rent and left for Firefly. Firefly was mainly a grocery store but they also carried paint and brushes along with some other odds and ends. I took my time perusing the aisles after I stocked up on paint, brushes, canvas, staples, pencils and sponges. The staff was friendly as I checked out.

“You must be a painter,” the bagger stated as he carefully put my paints in a paper bag. He was tall and slender, with shaggy blonde hair. He looked to be around my age. He had a sweet gentle face and soft muted gray eyes.

“Yes, I am,” I replied as I pulled out the money for the cashier. I watched him pull a pen and paper from his apron.

“My name is Ivan, if you ever need a muse, let me know.” He handed me the paper with his phone number on it. I was flattered.

“What time do you get off?” I asked. He handed me my bag of supplies.

“Eight,” he muttered with a smile. I grinned and flirted back.

“You should meet me at the Olympia Cafe at nine,” I gently suggested with a bright pink blush.

“You got it sweetheart,” he confirmed with a grin. I turned and smiled at him again. It had been so long since I was asked out.

“I’ll see you then,” I remarked with a sultry wink. I was swooning on the walk home. Ivan seemed like he was a wonderful young man. I hoped that I was right, even though I knew deep down I wouldn’t allow him to get close.

I hoped to see Sætre in the halls or the elevator, but I was disappointed. I walked through my apartment door and put my purse down on the couch before I began to unload my supplies. My heart and stomach fluttered with excitement. To calm myself down I rolled a joint and stepped out onto my balcony. It was relaxing and calming, from my balcony I could see most of the city. People walked below and occasionally a car would roll b. After I put the roach into the ashtray next to the others I lit a cigarette and watched the smoke drift in the light breeze. I smoked Sobranie Blacks, they were sweet and wrapped in black paper. They were a bit on the pricey side, but as long as I kept painting I could afford them. Halfway through my cigarette I walked back inside and set up my easel and a blank canvas with my cigarette dangling from my lips. Finally I snuffed it out and sat at my easel. I had several hours before my date and I was stoned and itching to paint. I picked up my pencil and began to lightly sketch. I drew a woman, her back and buttocks, her arms crossed over her naked chest. I gave her brown hair tied back in a chignon. Around her were draping fabrics of red, gold, and purple. She came to life as I painted, with her soft mothering face, half lidded doe eyes and pouty lips. One her back, in black I tattooed angel wings that mimicked my own. I was pleased with it. I lit up a cigarette and glanced at the clock. It was was already seven! I showered and dressed in a pair of tight jeans and my Iron Maiden shirt. My friend Zoya had moved to the United States, and once a month she sent me a care package with American music and clothes and some of the best drugs concealed in a coffee can. In return I mailed her cigarettes. I left my hair down and painted my lips. By eight fifteen I was ready and nervous. I took two of the roaches out of the ashtray and put them in my glass pipe. After a few long puffs I was ready. I lit a cigarette on my way out the door. My high heels clicked with every step. I found the walk refreshing. I wanted to paint the trees and the night sky, it was so breathtaking.

Ivan was already waiting for me when I arrived. He was dressed handsomely in a white button down and black jeans. His beautiful blonde hair hung in his eyes. He smiled and waved me over. I waded through a thicket of people to get over to him at the bar.