Sadie’s Short Stories (SSS): Studying Water lilies; A description story

I walked the halls of the museum. I loved to walk the halls, watching the visitors gaze in awe at the paintings and sculptures they saw as they roamed the halls of this magnificent building. My black heels echoed as they clicked the tiled floors of the halls. Quietly I looked over the paintings. There were so many I would probably never be able to view them all. My favorite section was the nineteenth and early twentieth-century section of the building. That section was on the second floor. 

“Ms. Singler, I am getting ready to leave. Are you going to be here awhile?” The voice was deep from behind me, which made me jump. I spun around, my blonde hair flying as it hit my face. I pulled it away from my eyes to see the old janitor. He chuckled and I smiled warmly. He was the oldest janitor here, and he has been with us for as long as I could remember. He almost liked the paintings as much as I did. He had white hair that was balding. He had no teeth but had dentures instead, and he towed a large janitor’s cart as he swept and washed the hallways. He dusted the paintings and the sculptures every day. I knew he was getting too old to be going up and down all those stairs, but he was too proud to admit it. 

“Thank you. You can go home now, don’t worry about me. I just want to look at some things before I leave.” Softly I planted a big kiss on his forehead and he blushed. The sound of his bashful murmurings could be heard as he left the building. Laughing softly to myself, I made my way up the westernmost staircase. The only sound that could be heard was my breathing and the clacking of my heels against the tile. 

I looked at my surroundings as I reached the second floor. The walls I came to were lined with all sorts of modern art. I was in the Modern and Contemporary Art exhibit, and I was always baffled by the pieces. I wouldn’t even really consider it art. It was more or less a lot of weird sculptures put into one form. Some paintings looked like a child’s scribbles that were colored in weird places, making it look as though the figure in the painting was either afraid or angry. I hurried through this section, past many different paintings and sculptures to the small hall that led southwards to the section I was looking for. It was the nineteenth and twentieth-century exhibit.

“What are you still doing here Sarah? I thought you were going home early today.” I looked to see my assistant manager seated on a bench in front of the painting of Bridge Over A Pond Of Lilies, by Claude Monet. He was probably my favorite painter of all time. I loved to see how he melded colors together to create the most beautiful effect. 

“I changed my mind. I couldn’t help but come up here to look at these paintings. Aren’t they just the most beautiful!” enthusiastically I clamped my hands in front of me and sighed in satisfaction.

She looked at me and scrunched her small nose at me. Her dark brown eyes twinkled with laughter as she nodded. “They are quite beautiful, better than any of the Modern Art exhibits, that’s for sure.” Chuckling, she stood and surveyed the art behind us. “What about that one, have you seen that one before?” Looking at where her long finger pointed I saw my favorite painting of all. It was the painting “Water Lilies” by Claude Monet, just like the one we were just viewing. 

“Of course I’ve seen that one! That’s my favorite.” I stared surprisingly at her with my bright blue eyes. My rosy cheeks scrunched up when I smiled and I moved to the bench in front of the other painting. She came as well, plopping herself down on the wooden bench. We looked at the painting together. 

“Why do you like it so much, I mean, it’s just water lilies. What’s so special about that?” Her brown hair was tied in a tight bun on the top of her head, her Southern accent strong. She was from Texas, so we are kinda like kin. My family came from Texas.  She cocked her head as she stared at the painting. 

Knowingly I shrugged and smiled. “I guess it just reminds me of home. I used to live in Michigan, as you know, and it looks like the ponds we have back home.”

“Back home I lived in a small town with woods and dirt roads. I knew a friend who had a hundred acres. I would walk around their pond and I would see the pond just as I see it in the painting. See how it’s shaded, as if by trees?” She knowingly nodded and studied the painting attentively. 

“I guess it just makes me appreciate how the artist can capture the beauty of a landscape with a paintbrush. It helps me not take God’s beauty for granted.” I watched as she narrowed her eyes. 

“Yeah, I see it now, I never noticed that before.” 

We sat in silence as we surveyed the painting. It was of a pond, the painting looked textured. The pond was of a marshy green, with a mix of purple and blue. It was covered with water lilies that seemed to part for a little stream of light to filter through the trees that shaded them. You could tell by the shadow over the pond that they were trees, it looked as though it were about evening, the sun just setting. The water looked cool, with no ripples to be seen. The water lilies were in full bloom, their flowers turning a deep pink, almost purple. The pads were dark green, softly floating over the still surface of the water. It was almost as if you could just picture walking along the trail that wrapped around a pond. I could imagine myself walking in the cool of the evening on a midsummers day, the heat having been swept away by the cool of the night. A soft breeze would steal softly over the pond, rustling the leaves of the trees and the water lilies bobbing gently in the water. I was startled from my daydreaming when Sammie tugged on my shoulder. 

“We better get going. We have to be out of here before eleven.” She stood up and loudly gathered her bags. “See you next week!” She waved and walked away, leaving the hall in total silence when she left. 

“Well, what do you say water lilies, say I take a visit back to Michigan? I am leaving this weekend, but don’t worry, I’ll be back to see you next week.” Touching the painting with my small hand, I traced my finger along the outline of the water lilies. “You are mighty beautiful. Something to help remind me of home, I guess.” I sighed, my round face turned in a thoughtful smile. 

“I’ll be home in no time, I’ll visit that pond again, maybe…” Walking away, I made my way back down the stairs. On leaving the building I shut all the lights off, leaving the museum dark and lonely. Everything seemed hollow and cold as I left the building in total darkness.
Walking down the steps of the museum’s main walkway I looked back at the large building behind me. “I’ll be back, don’t worry, I would never want to leave such an interesting, colorful place for anything.” I paused short, “Well, except if I could go back to my real pond, of course.” I walked home with a skip in my step, my heels clicking against the pavement. My blonde hair was tucked behind my small ear. My face bore a large smile, and I sang a tune. “I’ll be home soon enough.” Under the same sky was my pond and I, my water lilies and I saw the same moon. It made me happy, and I quietly mulled these thoughts as I walked through the silent night.  


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