Venturously Yours,

Brooding With Yours Truly

Disclaimer- This is a work of Fiction. Name, character, places and incidents are either product of author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved.
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Octavius stared at the blank drawing paper in front of him. The blankness teasing him like the half eaten apple sitting beside it on the round wooden table.

It wasn't the good teasing. It was a taunting one, that deliberately hangs like a noose in front of the criminals ready to be hung for their crimes especially in olden era.

He looks up at the green grass in front of his porch. He clicks his tongue, then glances at the sky. Then back down at the paper.

Nothing. No inspiration. No idea. Zilch.

The screen door opens with its rusty squeak and the hard footfalls across the porch sinks in the quiet uninspired air.

"Still nothing?"

Octavius huffs. "Pretty much."

Ansel sits down on the crooked lounge chair next to him, and passes an opened cold beer bottle to him.

"Thanks man." The ice glass numbs his palm as he takes a nice sip of the malty bold bitter liquid. It rolls in his mouth, so complex and hearty.

"Wow, I can literally hear your thoughts." Ansel laughed by his side.

He cocks his eyebrow at him, looking up and down at what he was wearing. A red polo t-shirt with black jeans, white socks and brown loafers.

Ansel was his only childhood buddy who knows Octavius through thick and thin. He is the stark opposite of what Octavius may stand on in life but somehow that was the closest tie he could trust in.

His parents let Ansel stay with him after his own passed away in a car accident across the highway. Some stupid bastard in the truck wasn't looking where he was going and made the wrong turn. Next thing they knew, they were called to the hospital at three am, circling around doctors and nurses who weren't saying anything yet until finally at five am, his parents were issued dead.

From then, Ansel has been quiet and cold. He didn't talk to strangers. He remained still the friend he knew but Octavius was aware of the dark sadness brewing in him.

He was a university doctored professor in mathematics teaching in University of Koblenz-Landau, which went straight over Octavius's head. In fact during school years, all his math assignments were done by Ansel while the art projects were dealt by him.

Currently, Octavius was working for his newest project where he had the whole of summer to ponder on. It sounded like a lot of time but from far, it really wasn't.

"You mind giving a man some space? I'm working here."

Ansel rolled his eyes. "It's the first day of your summer and you are already thinking of work. Why don't you take a break?"

"I don't wanna." He places the bottle down, the apple quivers at the thud. The bitten part had already turned brownish, almost looking rotten.

"I still can't believe you cancelled our trip just because you wanted to stay back this summer. I really was looking forward to our Monte Carlo cruise."

"It's only this year."

"No, we always go for every damn holiday and this year you won't go because of some dang exposition which you have to submit for."

This was the line between them.

Ansel revered probably difficult hard brain racking calculus while Octavius gets intense with his exhibition activities with important expositions in Koblenz.