AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Materialism.” Her eyes remained glued on it. “It is decrying the excesses of materialism.” She added insightfully.
“Perhaps,” I wanted to say more, but I was interrupted by the tinkling of wine glasses. The proprietress wanted to give her speech.
After the speech, I formally congratulated her.
“Thank you for honoring my invite.” She beamed a smile.
“It’s my pleasure. Your place is really beautiful.”
“Oh, my.” She chuckled. “Is this your girlfriend?” She was referring to Fiona. “She’s pretty.”
“No-”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Phoebe.” She had not let me finish before she introduced herself to Fiona. I guess she was a little impatient, perhaps out of excitement.
“Nice to meet you, Phoebe, I’m Fiona,” she grinned.
“I hope you are having a good time.”
“Yes, of course. You’ve done a wonderful job here. It’s impressive.”
“Oh, thank you so much. I really appreciate you coming.”
“You’re welcome and-”
“I’m so sorry,” she suddenly gasped. “Excuse me, please. I need to catch up with someone lest he gets spirited away.” She laughed and then disappeared among the numerous guests she had invited from different places across the world.
“Would you like to have another drink?” I asked Fiona.
“Yes, thank you. “
“I’ll be right back.”
By the time I returned, she was already staring at another painting. I could feel the connection between her and the painting from how she gazed upon the artwork. Momentarily, her eyes fluttered, and her lips parted.
“I think you have a predilection for paintings.” I came to stand next to her, handing her a drink.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
“Now, what do we have here?” I attempted to study the brainchild manifested through strokes of brushes before me.
It was a presentation of a personality. My eyes wandered to the bottom ward corner where the title was written.
Leigh Bowery.
“Do you know him?” I asked.
“No.”
“What does it say?” I thought she might have more reasonable feedback for the artist.
“Sheer expression.” She sipped from her glass.
When Fiona eventually snatched her mind from the infatuating magic of Phoebe’s walls of paintings, we could settle in a corner of the large hall far from the inevitable chit-chatting and ridiculous critiquing of many of the guests.
Fiona had brought up the memories of our silly childhood acts, especially those of Allison’s, and we were seriously cracking at them.
“Do you remember her doing that silly impersonation of Mr. Bean?” She said amidst fits of laughter.
