The Portrait


       Rogue's bangs were gently tossed by the breeze. She leaned gainst the rail of the bridge. She looked down at the water underneath.
       Joseph's hands moved quickly across the canvas. His charcoal stick was a mere stub at this point but he was almost done. He rubbed the eyelines to represent her dark makeup. "Finished," he said. Her body relaxed. "It's about time. I was really getting tired of standing that way," she said. She looked at him. "What class did you say this was for," she asked. "Introduction to Impressionism," he said. He knew she would kill him if she found out he really didn't take that course.
       "So how do I look," Rogue asked him. "Beautiful," he said before thinking. But then he realized she was talking about the portrait. He turned it around for her to see it. "Wow, you're really good," she said. He shrugged. "Well, I'm off," she said, walking away. He watched her go.
       Joseph turned the picture back to him. It paled in comparision to the real thing. But it seemed to be the closest he could get to her. He sighed deeply. Then he also left.
       Rahne stepped out from behind a tree, grinning mischevously. It was time to play matchmaker, she decided.