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He smiled, something soft and enigmatic in his features and I so hoped I'd planned our weekend right. I turned back to my painting.Blues, yellows, greens; white and deep cerulean. Afterword reminded me of Jesse, he was the eyes of friends, the twin with the gift for his brother. So I was painting my present to him. I hadn't travelled the world, hadn't headed out west and fetch up again, but when I looked at Jesse I felt my world fixed in his eyes, and too him, apparently I was special. So I painted.I painted a vision of the world that I wanted to run through with Jesse. The sky was made of close interlocked and frenetically detailed patterns tiles, blocks of colour and abstract shapes, the sort of things that Islamic temple designs loved so much. Blues reflected the colour of the sea, the sky, Jesse's eyes when he smiled at me. I painted the land we ran over in fat interweaving lines of heavy pattern; darker blues and greeny greys, a fast wet brushstroke that looked like speed. Bright. Rita agreed to come in that weekend for half the day. When I got to the office, she was already at her desk typing away. I gave her a warm greeting and went over to my desk. In a while Rita came over to my desk to ask me something and I was stunned to see that she had worn a short skirt that ended middle of her thighs and very high-heeled strappy sandals. I had never seen Rita in a short skirt as she always dressed very conservatively in skirts that went below her knees or in trousers or ethnic Indian wear. I exclaimed “Wow, Rita you look great!” I walked around my desk and told her that I need to have a better look of her. She blushed and smiled as she sat at the chair across my table. She had worn a light blue skirt and a sleeveless white cotton top that was buttoned down at the front; she had her shoulder length hair casually tied at the back. Her beautiful feet were encased in sexy high heels. I returned to my chair and told her that she looked really nice in what she was wearing.
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