Painting of Life.
By Joshua Crets
In a far away land, where unfortunately faithful reader I doubt you'll be able to visit, there exists a small town overlooked by a large castle. The type of place where it may be expected to see a dragon or a dwarf or maybe even a small hamlet of elves. A place surrounded by green grass and farmers who raise animals and grow crops to feed their village and their king.
The village and all that reside in it are an area of about a 4 miles radius. Not many, if any, of the townsfolk have ever left their town, and if you asked them why, they most likely couldn't tell you. It matters little to them though. They have everything they could ever want, could ever need.
This is not a sad kingdom where everyone fears an oncoming attack from brutal savages but a kingdom that has had not years, but centuries of peace. They might never have been attacked, but they wouldn't know if asked. The town was also always sunny, there might not have ever been night, but again if not, these good people hadn't noticed or thought anything of it.
The town had a witch, but not a frightening 'toil and trouble' witch but instead a happy 'goodies for all the children' witch. She lived in a nice, quaint little hut where our story takes place.
Two boys from the town, Sam and John who were both of the same age, the age of sixteen were asked by the witch for a favor for which she would give them both a healthy amount of gold coins. John was actually soon to marry and Sam was trying to start his own ranch (with help from his father, of course.) The witch, whose own name was Esmeralda, had asked the two boys to do something for her. She hadn't always lived where she did, for she had just moved there and there were still things in her old house that needed to be moved to the new. Almost everything had been moved, except for a number of beautiful paintings she had. She decided to have the two boys, Sam and John, move them to her new house.
Before she left she told them: "Remember, boys I care deeply for these paintings. Be careful that nothing happens to them. Be especially careful to not completely destroy them, for others and myself believe that life exists within those paintings. That inside the paintings exist a whole world, and I doubt you two want to be responsible for the deaths of so many." She said and then let out a cackle and let them be.
After she left, the two boys laughed at what she said. The idea of a world in a painting was absurd. Just wait till they tell there friends about this, they thought to themselves.
Although they thought her warning of other worlds was crazy, they still took care to keep them from being ruined. They may have thought she was absent of some sanity, but she certainly was not cruel and they owe it to such a nice person to do a good job.
They decided to each take one painting at a time (for they were very large and would require both hands) and then come back for the others. All together there would be five trips in all, for there were ten paintings. It was close to half of a mile between both houses, old and new, but that didn't bother them much. They liked the exercise.
After they moved the last painting to it's new home they walked back to Sam's house which was directly in front of the castle about a fourth of a mile away from it. The house was about 2 miles from their own position.
As they walked they began to feel a tremor beneath their feet. The ground began to shake just a little and then suddenly, the entire ground felt like it moved up a mile in the air and then fell down again. Almost every hut and home was destroyed. John actually happened to break his leg.
"What was that," Sam asked.
"I don't know, I've never felt anything like it before," John said while in pain from his leg.
They continued to walk to their homes, hoping to find survivors. Sam helped John walk and it doubled how long it would normally take them. Sam took a glance up to the sky and saw what looked like a gigantic drop of rain, as big as the castle, perhaps bigger. The strange thing about this drop of rain, was not that it was incredibly large, although that was a puzzle indeed, but the strange thing was, that drop was a dark red color. A blood red color.
It struck the castle actually shattering the walls and destroying it. It started to flow towards the boys, destroying anything that came in its way. The two boys ran, even with John's broken leg moving as fast as they can dodging the huge, red liquid ravishing their home and kingdom. Undoubtedly killing all in it's path.
They headed past John's home as they ran, but they did not stop to hide inside it, for the giant read liquid engulfed it, ripping it to pieces.
They finally arrived at their new destination: The witch's new home. She stood out on the porch watching them with a look of worry on her face. When they got to her house, John asked. "What in the gods names are going on? The ground is shaking beneath our feet. The streets run red with a river of blood. Tell us, please, you must know something?"
"I know nothing," she said.
"But how can you know nothing. You are the wisest in the village." Same yelled.
"I wish I knew but I" she paused for a minute.
"What is it?" John inquired.
"I don't know, just be quiet and watch." She replied to him.
They watched the village and castle, totally destroyed beyond any original recognition. The river of red sweep through ruining their beautiful kingdom, But that was not the end of it. The ground began to shake again and a huge blue mountain ripped through the ground. Everything started to rip apart and then.nothing. Everything was gone.
***** *****
Two men in blue jeans overalls were on a driveway of a large house in a gated community. One was standing up, the other was on the ground with a broken picture frame and a ruined painting.
"Look what you've done, Bill," The man standing up said. "You just broke that picture. Do you know how much that things probably worth? The owner of this house we're moving it to told me that the painting was at least centuries years old. Do you have any idea how much something like that is worth?"
"It's not my fault, Lester. I tripped. It could happen easily to anyone," Bill said.
Lester sighed. "Still I can't believe you did that, first you dropped it, and then when you tried to pick it up your scratched your finger and bled on it. You bled right on the castle in the painting! Then you do a clumsy and trip, sending your whole knee straight through it!" Lester paced back and forth thinking of what to do. "I can't believe you did that! My grandmother years ago told me that there was a little know legend that in every painting lived a small world made by the creator of that painting. Still I can't believe you did that!"
Bill then said. "Hey don't give me any of that goofy legend stuff. Just help me think of a good excuse for what happened to cause this." He got up and then muttered under his breath: "World in a picture indeed. Boy has Lester (and his old granny too) lost his ever-loving mind. What a loon."
They then walked back to the their truck to think of a lie to tell the owners of the painting.
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