My legs wobbled in pain, punishing me for standing on my feet for hours.
I have been warned severally by my doctor not to put pressure on my legs as I am doing now. The fractured bone I had years ago may have been healed but my legs aren't strong as they use to be before the accident, hence any pain I feel in my legs gets extreme.
But I am not paying attention to the shooting pain I am experiencing, because I am lost in my artistic mind with my eyes enthralled by the godlike body of my husband who lays peacefully in slumber as I work in harmony with the brush to paint my husband's Greek God body on the canvas.
I feel different. I feel alive now. I feel whole again. The broken missing piece of me has returned, completing me.
Painting is the biggest part of who I am.
I raise my eyes from my painting fixing it back on Brad. He suddenly stirs. He made another shift.
I stared at him as his eyes opens.
He squinted his eyes, bringing his hand over his face to rub them.
