"I don't know how to do this," said Asger Wendt, staring at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. "You're supposed to paint, not sit there and think about it."
He had painted the same thing for the past three days: a small landscape in the style of the Dutch Masters. It was not difficult to create such a painting; he just had to imagine what the scene looked like. He did not have to imagine much. The land was flat, and the sky was clear, so the view was dominated by a large church steeple against a backdrop of green hills.
The trees were arranged in neat rows along the road leading up to the church, which gave the impression of being hemmed in by hedges. In the foreground stood a solitary tree that had been left standing on its own.
"It's beautiful," Elin said. She sat beside him, gazing out at the painting with rapt attention. "But you can't see any detail. You've got to add more detail or else people won't believe it's real."
Asger shook his head. "It's perfect the way it is. I'm trying to capture the essence of the place, not try to make it look exactly like reality."
"So why don't you go outside and take some photos?"
"Because then it would be too obvious that this isn't a painting. That's what I'm trying to avoid."
Elin leaned back and gazed up at the ceiling. "What are you thinking about? What does the church mean to you?"
Asger sighed. "My grandfather built it. My grandmother used to tell my siblings stories about when she was little, and about the times he took her to the village and they shared them with me. According to my brother, when we moved here, my father wanted to sell the house, but my Grandfather wouldn't let him. He insisted that it should stay in the family."
"Why didn't your parents want to keep it?"
"They wanted to sell it. To pay for my brother's education."
"Do you miss them?"
"Sometimes. But I don't think they'd want me to live here now."
"So why did you choose to buy the house and return?"
"Because this is where I met you."
Elin laughed. "And that's why you're painting this picture. So you'll remember how fate brought us together."
Asger smiled. "That's right. And because I love you."
Elin turned away from him and lay down on the sofa. She closed her eyes and began to hum. Asger watched her in silence.
He remembers the events of their meeting and marriage as though it was yesterday.
Source
He had been sitting in his studio, working on a portrait of a woman who had recently passed away. Asger had been planning to paint her face white and give her transparent wings. He had taken several photographs of her before starting work on the painting, but they hadn't given him enough information. Her features had remained indistinct.
He had begun to paint when Elin came in and asked if he could help her carry some things to the attic. He followed her up there, and as they were putting the boxes down, she noticed the photograph he had lying on top of one of them. It showed a young man wearing a uniform, with a girl standing next to him. She picked up the photo and studied it.
"Who's that?" she asked.
Asger had no idea what she meant. "Just a friend," he said, hoping that was true.
She looked at him quizzically. "Is she your girlfriend?"
"No, not really."
"Then why is she holding your hand?"
"We're just friends."
"Are you sure? Because she looks like she likes you."
Asger shrugged. "I guess so."
Elin nodded thoughtfully. "Well, maybe she is your girlfriend. Or you're both going steady.
Ellin had said that with a bit of disappointment in her heart because the moment she walked in on Asger, she liked him immediately. She couldn't bare the thought of him liking another woman even though they had just met.
"Would you like to see more pictures?" Asger asked.
"Yes, please."
"Come with me."
Asger led her out of the attic, down the stairs, and into his bedroom. There was a pile of albums on the bedside table, and he pulled out the one marked with a red ribbon.
"These are all of my relatives. I haven't seen them for a long time. They were taken when I was in the army."
He opened the album and flipped through the pages.
"This is my grandmother. She died when I was six. I don't remember her very well, but these photographs show what she looked like."
Elin gazed at the pictures. One of them showed a young woman with dark hair, smiling broadly.
"My mother," Asger said. "She's not here, but I still remember her."
Elin turned over the page. The next picture showed a boy with fair hair and a round face.
"That's my father. He died when I was nine. He was in the military too, and he left when I was five. He never wrote to me or told me anything about himself. I've tried to find out more about him, but I can't seem to track him down."
"Maybe he doesn't want to be found."
"I don't know. He may have written to me if he wanted to get in touch."
Elin put the book aside and turned over the next few pages.
"This is my grandfather. He was a soldier too, but he got injured in an accident. He was badly hurt, and after a while, he lost his memory. My grandmother took care of him until he died."
The last picture in the album showed a thin, wiry man with gray hair and a lined face.
"This is my grandfather's brother. He was in the same regiment as my father. He died when I was eight. He was killed in action during the war."
Elin laid her hand on his arm. "How did he die?"
"He was shot by a sniper."
Asger heard Elin's sharp intake of breath, and he looked at her. Her eyes were wide open, staring at him. They promised him comfort and he couldn't help but wonder if fate brought her to ease his loneliness.
A loneliness he suffered from losing almost all the members of his family. He had no other relatives except for his father, who had died before he was born. His mother had remarried, and he didn't see her any more either.
"I'm sorry," Elin whispered.
"It's all right."
They sat quietly for a moment, then Asger stood up and went back to his studio. Elin stayed behind. He felt bad that she'd seen the pictures of his dead relatives, but it was better that she knew the truth.
What Asger did not know was that Elin was already drawn to him the moment she saw him. And she was fated to stay by his side forever. The rest of the events that led to their nuptial bliss confirmed this and they lived happily ever after.
You write beautifully, @atomz. The story of Asger and Elin delves into pain and the past enough that we get the sense that this story is really the entrance to a complete world.
It looks like you are familiar with our rules and guidelines. Just let us know if you have any questions. Thank you for reading and commenting on the work of other writers in the community!
Thank you for joining us in The Ink Well, by way of DreemPort. We're glad you're here.
@theinkwell, thank you very much.
Yes, I read them over and over again when I saw the dreemport challenge for this month. I'll ask questions in the future when I have them. Thank you.
It's a pleasure to be a part of the community and to network.
Thank you for growing such an awesome community that we became a part of.
What a nice love story! It is not formulaic in any way, as love stories tend to be, and the rich details of the setting draw the reader in so we feel a part of the story.
Thank you. I would say I was just trying to work around the rules of the community. I am glad I threaded carefully and didn't break any of them.
Thanks for your appreciation, it means a lot. ❤️
Nice read. Hehe women would always be women. So quick into jealousy. 😂
And finally she got to know what she wanted. It’s better he showed her the album to put her mains at east and avoid suspicious actions.
Thanks for sharing
With love ❤️
Pirate Q from dreemport
Heyyyy, you came around today. This must be fate... Lol.
Lol, women can be jealous over the men they like ... Hehehehe
Thanks for reading, Pirate Q from Dreemport 😉
Oh oh… Fate indeed 😂
You must be a woman too. You narrated it like you were the character.
And always my pleasure, Atom from chemistry ⚛️
Lol.. I am sure you understood what I was doing.... The prompt 😃
Are you sure?
Yes, the smallest unit of everything else 🙌
I am sure. What if I don’t understand what you were doing?? Any problem about that?
Smiles. Not at all. I was just putting the prompt there...Fate
And now. I am changing it from the prompt entirely… Fate
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This is a beautiful story. Sometimes, we find beauty in pain. Your story just reminds me of how much beauty there is in the not so beautiful things.
Dreemport!
Yes, there's beauty in everything, we just need to find it. Thanks for stopping by
a very sweet story. and as it stands works fine. the points below are me being VERY fussy because, as it is such a lovely story, I think a few tweaks can elevate it.
For a short story it starts at point C, goes to D, then jumps back to point A, before proceeding to B. While short stories do not need to be strictly linear, they do require a strong purpose for the lack of linearity. Here the second part, for me, produces more questions than resolution and, while unresolved questions are a good way to leave a reader pondering, the questions are all about the death of relatives while the MC is so young, and not about the central question of the relationship & why the painting is being painted.
I do love the descriptions of how the painting is formed - to the point that I went and looked up Dutch Master Landscapes, and ooh, there were some beauties.
I have a query re the names. They are Nordic, but the only place clues we have are the reference to Dutch Master. While the two are not exclusive, it would be nice to either have names and reference matching, or a reason for the dissonance. That would be easy to do, eg having a reference to using the Dutch style for a Danish/Swedish landscape.
anyway, hope any of that is useful for further draughts, and thankyou for a lovely story
This is a very nice story and It was well composed, sometimes, there is a pain in beauty. But in overall, love is a beautiful thing.
#dreemport
Nice read bro
Nicely written
It's funny how fate puts people together right from the moment of encounters. This is an interesting story and great plot.
Dropped in from #dreemport
Dear @atomz,
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I wish I could write love stories as you do — with a happy ending. I just noticed that I always end a love story with either tears or insanity.
I love this piece.