Friday Fictioneers – Street Artist


He has grown old at this marketplace table. One day, we were young and easy, running in the narrow allies; the next, he was shackled to his brush.

“Chrysanthemums sell best,” he says, a flick of his hand tracing the stem of his eighth gaudy flower. “And waves, Hokusai waves.”

I notice the slightness of his wrist. As if all the meat has boiled away, leaving only a skeleton that paints and paints.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” a woman says to her beau. “Let’s buy it.”

And my old friend’s face brightens in a smile, skin stretched parchment thin.


Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here

62 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers – Street Artist

  1. There is a cost to pursuing any art. Your metaphor that describes the man’s wrist, “As if all the meat has boiled away, leaving only a skeleton that paints and paints,” is a wonderful way of expressing that.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. He is a passionate artist, wedded to his job.
    Am sure he is so dedicated that he forgets to eat. Hope all his art works are sold and he eats well so that he can paint many many more to bring smiles.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Love the “skeleton that only paints and paints” and how the woman’s interest in the painting is so oblivious to the painter.


  4. Fascinating. At least he gets paid for his work, but is it worth it I wonder? The descriptions of shackles and a weak, pained smile suggest it is not. Well done. A lot going on between lines here.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. An interesting slice of life with just a hint of the macabre to it, as I was reading it. Maybe it’s just me, but I got this feeling like the painting might just be cursed. Such a fascinating take on the prompt.

    Liked by 1 person

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