Early in the morning Ethan turned up at Maya's studio, the sun not yet risen, his boots dusty from the docks and his sleeves rolled up.
"I'm here to assist at the art fair", he said, sounding calm but with a clear sense of purpose.
Her eyes didn't flinch or glance his way. Keeping her eyes fixed on the sketchbook in her hands, she sat still. "I don't need your help."
He said "I understand that" in response.
"What I'm doing now, I'm doing it because I want to help. I am not doing this for public attention or for some kind of redemption, but because I want to help. I am doing this for you."
She had paused with her pencil in mid-air. Her gaze locked onto his, her eyes piercing. "For me? Or for yourself?"
They locked eyes. "Could be both. Or neither. I just… want to be here in a different way." he said. "All I am trying to say is that I wish to experience it differently."
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Are you really thinking that one week of volunteering will compensate for all the past errors?"
He responded, "History has shown us that it is often our actions in the present that have been influenced by our memories of past events. I know nothing can change the past. But we can use it to shape the future."
For a moment, all was quiet. She quickly pulled on her coat. "You're delusional. If you step one foot into this fair, you are on your own. And keep your hands off my art."
He simply nodded, entirely unmoved. "I'm on it."
She walked out, slamming the door as she left.
Several hours later, he was at the harbour, wrestling with crates of paints and easels through the mud, while a few locals watched with interest. With each raindrop that hit his sleeve, he felt invigorated by the splashes from the wet night's rainfall which had left everything so shiny.
Maya's potential for forgiveness was something he was uncertain about. She hadn't even registered his presence, he wasn't sure she would notice him. For him, being there was enough to satisfy his curiosity, at least for the time being.
Maya stood at the window, looking out through the blinds. As she saw him, muddy and working harder than anyone else, it made her chest tighten. Quickly she turned her face away with the thought that it was ridiculous. Deep within her, a small flame that she had tried to suppress years ago flickered once more. She couldn't help but feel that this summer was destined to be anything other than normal.
Early in the morning Ethan turned up at Maya's studio, the sun not yet risen, his boots dusty from the docks and his sleeves rolled up.
"I'm here to assist at the art fair", he said, sounding calm but with a clear sense of purpose.
Her eyes didn't flinch or glance his way. Keeping her eyes fixed on the sketchbook in her hands, she sat still. "I don't need your help."
He said "I understand that" in response.
"What I'm doing now, I'm doing it because I want to help. I am not doing this for public attention or for some kind of redemption, but because I want to help. I am doing this for you."
She had paused with her pencil in mid-air. Her gaze locked onto his, her eyes piercing. "For me? Or for yourself?"
They locked eyes. "Could be both. Or neither. I just… want to be here in a different way." he said. "All I am trying to say is that I wish to experience it differently."
She sighed and ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Are you really thinking that one week of volunteering will compensate for all the past errors?"
He responded, "History has shown us that it is often our actions in the present that have been influenced by our memories of past events. I know nothing can change the past. But we can use it to shape the future."
For a moment, all was quiet. She quickly pulled on her coat. "You're delusional. If you step one foot into this fair, you are on your own. And keep your hands off my art."
He simply nodded, entirely unmoved. "I'm on it."
She walked out, slamming the door as she left.
Several hours later, he was at the harbour, wrestling with crates of paints and easels through the mud, while a few locals watched with interest. With each raindrop that hit his sleeve, he felt invigorated by the splashes from the wet night's rainfall which had left everything so shiny.
Maya's potential for forgiveness was something he was uncertain about. She hadn't even registered his presence, he wasn't sure she would notice him.
For him, being there was enough to satisfy his curiosity, at least for the time being.
Maya stood at the window, looking out through the blinds. As she saw him, muddy and working harder than anyone else, it made her chest tighten. Quickly she turned her face away with the thought that it was ridiculous. Deep within her, a small flame that she had tried to suppress years ago flickered once more. She couldn't help but feel that this summer was destined to be anything other than normal.