I stood at my easel pencil in hand ready to sketch yet not quite ready with an idea. I found myself often locking myself in my room these trying to get one idea out. I mean for making my lifes living as a painter coming up dry with ideas wasnt really a good idea. Sighing a dropped my pencil down and pushed my hands back through my messy oak brown hair.
Then my eyes rested on the box that lay locked on my dresser. I couldnt look away from the maple wood that held the contents of something so dangerous. Well, not dangerous to others but to me.... very so.
The box was locked with a key that hung from a chain round my neck at all times. I clutch the fabric of my shirt that rests over it and turn away stiffly. I shall never touch that drasted locket. Not even if I wanted my mortality back. My youth is all I have. To release my soul from the Dragon's stone necklace would be to scentence myself to death. To age the years I had not.
Like that character writeen by Oscar Wild. I was the living Dorian Grey. A man not aged by the years he had seen by sealing his soul within a mere object. While the figuritive character chosen a painting. I chose a locket that locked away any years that tried to touch me. That locked away my soul. Suddenly my pondering is interupted by a jaggling buzz of door and I move out of my room closing the door firmly closed behind me.
That rooms holds so many years of time and I sleep among them every night. It use to leave me restless but now.... I just feel a loss. My eyes gaze round my mediocre apartment. I could have much better but with passing years I feel like I should settle down and not live the rich lifestyle I always have.
Especially in these times and possibly catching the eye of the public. I mean they'd see eventually that I have not aged and would become surspicious. A gentle knock on the door and I look down at my self. A pain stained shirt and jeans. I suppose it presentable, I think with a shrug then move to answer the door.
Its the aquamarine eyes I see first. So sharp and clear. For a moment I'm left speechless. "How may I help you?" I jump in quickly.
"I'm here about the flatmate ad" he says.
"Oh, sure come in" I say holding the door wide. I vaguely remember putting that add in the local paper but I had long since forgotten about it.
"Thanks" the guy says stepping.
"Want a drink?" I ask closing the door behind him. I cant help but watch him but when he looks at me I look away so he doesnt notice I'm starting to check him out. I mean it has been a long time since I'd gotten a cute looking guy to firmly walk through that door asking to live her.
Dont get me wrong there had been other guys entering for a brief time. Along with a few girls. I suppose seeing as I came from a time different sexuality was frowned on I should be disgusted by it but what we think those times were like isnt what we truly and honestly know about them.
"Sure. Thanks" the guy says smiling up at me in an honest friendly way.
"Water? Ribena? Tea? Coffee?" I offer. I would offer beer or some other alcohol I got laying around but I didnt want to come over as wanting to get him drunk. Then what if he didnt drink?
I nod and move to the kitchen. "What's your name then?" I ask as I begin on making two cups of coffee. I would of bought a machine considering I drink quite a bit but technology freaks me out a little.
"Nice to meet you" I say. "I'm Josh" I hold out my hand towards this guy Tex. Tex clasps my hand shaking it.
"Nice to meet you too" he say. I grip his hand a little longer than needs to be hoping he might get the message.
"Uh, so how much rent would you want?" he asks.
"I dont mind" I tell him ressuming making the coffee. I just like the fact I have someone to actually talk to these days. It had been too long I'd kept myself away from soceity.