When Love's at Work Read Free Page A

sleep, I’ll whack him over
the head with it.”
    “ You would, too, wouldn’t
you?”
    “ Damn
straight!”
    “ Thanks, Court, I think I
can get back to sleep now.”
    “ If you wake up again,
just give me a buzz. I’ve been drawing all night and I’m on a roll.
I won’t hit the sack for hours yet.” Excitement laced Courtney’s
words, she loved when her muse came out to play.
    “ Can’t wait to see what
you’re working on.”
    Purity thought Courtney was one of the most
talented artists she knew. She was always coming up with amazing
images, stories, or paintings that were usually shocking and a bit
macabre but also haunting and beautiful.
    “ I’ll see you tomorrow,
well actually, today,” Courtney said with an energy fueled by
creativity and more than a few cans of Jolt soda.
    “ Thanks, again, Court. I
love you.”
    “ Love you, too. Sleep
well.”
    The women hung up their phones. Pure
returned to her prone position in bed, noticing her heart rate had
returned to normal and her skin was no longer clammy.
    Courtney returned to her drawing, choosing a
medium-black charcoal pencil to sketch out the labyrinth spilling
out of one side of a woman’s head. She liked the way the darker
coal made the skin look dry, scraggly and torn. It made Court want
to buy the woman some Vitamin E oil to rub on the area and
replenish the moisture in her flesh.
    Courtney knew that some people thought her
artwork was bizarre. That was fine with her. She wasn’t involved in
the creative arts to please other people, she did it because she
couldn’t not do it. It was in her blood.
    Sipping from her third can of Jolt, Court
found herself wishing she could be of more help to Purity when
those awful flashbacks hit. Right after the incident she used to
get them every night. Purity would wake up screaming and panting
for air. It was frightening. Court, Meg and Tapestry had taken
turns staying overnight with Pure for several months.
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder sucked.
    Putting the woman with the half brain aside,
Courtney quickly fleshed out an image of a man’s face and body
shape, then she added more details, everything except a penis and
testicles. These she added to the woman’s drawing as earrings.
    Courtney worked diligently to get the
contour just right. She didn’t want anyone to notice that the
earrings the woman was wearing were actually a schlong on one
earring and marbles on the other. It would only be noticed on
critical inspection. The images turned out exactly as she wanted.
No one would ever know that the man was a castrated Derek
Worthington. Who said art wasn’t therapeutic?
    Purity awoke, relieved that she couldn’t
remember having any more dreams after her night encounter with
Derek Worthington. She glanced toward the window where the sun was
painting grey leaf shadows on her blinds. The soft images were a
soothing balm.
    Purity rolled over on her right side and
hugged her pillow as she thought about her life. Mostly, she was
right where she wanted to be, especially as far as her career went.
She really wanted the events coordinator job at The Kids’ Place,
but if it fell through she knew she’d find another place to work.
She’d never been without a job for more than thirty days.
    She needed to jump in the shower and clear a
path through the rubble in her house so Court and Meg would have a
place to walk. Not that they would care. Courtney’s house was
always strewn with canvases, papers, boxes, easels and heaven only
knew what else. There were explosions of color everywhere and so
many types of artist mediums: paint, clay, charcoal pencils, grease
paint, colored pencils, watercolors, and many other items Pure
couldn’t even identify.
    Meg, on the other hand, had a place for
everything and everything in its place. If you asked Meg for a pair
of scissors, she knew exactly where they were, every time. Meggie
had a great sense of style in her decorating. She used soothing
colors and everything looked