June 13, 1947
There was no room for bad luck on this Friday the 13th. There was room for the blistering sun, however, and it poured through the window, casting long, stark shadows that seemed to lay motionless on the worn wooden floor as I waited for Anthony. The anticipation was palpable, and sweat was beginning to bead on my brow as I stood there, eyes fixed on the dusty road that would lead him to my cottage. During last night’s phone call, he said he’d be here by noon. It was 2:30 and no sign of him. My heart was racing, and the ticking of the old mantle clock seemed to echo my impatience and frustration. Finally, the distant rumble of his approaching car and a surge of relief, my frustration gave way to waves of intense desire. As the front door swung open, he cast his big, masculine, goofy shadow upon the sunlit room, a presence that was a balm, soothing the ache of the anticipation and frustration of my early afternoon, and the searing touch of the summer sun.
- Subject Matter: Figurative
- Inventory Number: 650728-1
- Current Location: Home Studio