That huge old boxed white house sitting in green out in the blue in back, where he lived turning out those pictures of gas tanks in the middle of nothing making it something. White and red dots, Pegasus. Old naked ladies standing alone on porches of brand new days with red hair, always red, his wife and a particular light streaming her flesh color, Jo. Can’t live and paint the old broad. No use, no need, for only paint. To make the light stream down on Jo’s bedded, slippery, streaming, pink nippled flesh. That’s all. In the corner of windows, in the theater, behind the rich tapestries. Secretive. People rooms. Only.
Neila Mezynski has fiction and poetry published on Snow Monkey Journal , Word Riot, elimae, Rumble, Northville Review, Mud Luscious, The Scrambler, Dogzplot, Monkey Bicycle, Short Fast and Deadly among several other journals and reviews.