As the first lines of the song played, I gasped. Those haunting violins seemed to grab my heart with razor claws that dug deep. I envisioned the bright red splash of blood bursting from the deeper red organ and was instantly inspired. Running home to crack open the cans of paint that housed the many shades of red I would need for the painting, I ran past the many headlights of New York city taxi cabs. A police car whooses by, its sirens screaming warning to evil doers, the picture in my head grows more vivid. My shoe falls off my foot, the delicate ribbon splaying gracefully across the bustling sidewalk. The beat of the city seems to slow, then increase faster and faster and faster as I watch it flutter. I grab my shoe, in more of a hurry than ever, the world spins as the beat chases me up flights of stairs. I dive into my apartment, quickly shedding my coat and skidding across the loft to the corner I use as a studio. I pull out brushes and sponges and paint, not even bothering to put a smock on over my dress. I painted long into the night, watching the sunset rise red-gold over the blue-black contrast of the skyscrapers.

Heavy metal pounding through the wall from next door totally ruined my Zen mood. I pounded the wall with my fist.
“Turn it down asshole!” I yelled. New neighbors gave me headaches. They park in my spot, go through my deliveries, most of them smoke and they play obnoxious music loudly in the morning. I don’t usually mind metal, I love a lot of metal songs but when its 8:00 in the morning and you stayed up all night, it can be a little annoying. When the music continued to play I banged on the wall harder.
“God damnit Jack, turn the fucking music down!” Oh boy, roommates. “Do you want to get kicked out of here too?” the music volume decreased dramatically. I sighed and walked into the bathroom. Looking at myself I started to laugh, I hadn’t gotten any paint on my dress luckily but the rest of me was another matter. I took off the dress, double checking it for any possible paint splatters and, finding none, hung it up. After taking a shower and indulging in an extremely nutritious breakfast of a pop tart and coffee someone knocked on the door. My bare feet padding across the hardwood floors, I went to answer it.

I kicked my vans out of the way and swung open the door, glaring at the poor guy who dared bug me before my coffee kicked in.

“Yes?” I asked as pleasantly as I could in my current state of mind “Can I help you?”
“Ummm” He was blushing, why was he blushing? “I just wanted to apologize for this morning.” He stared at the ground. I hated it when people didn’t look me in the eye. He mumbled something else and I snapped.

“What? If you seriously expect me to be able to hear what you’re saying maybe you should look me in the eyes when you’re talking to me.” I half snapped. He gave me a look.

“It’d be a lot easier to talk to you if you where wearing a shirt.”

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