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One sudden horrific moment shifts the entire trajectory of Atlas and Errol's lives, handicapping both young men in ways they could never have expected. A sculptor without his sight, and a piani...
Happy Birthday Dad. My first one without you. I love and miss you beyond words can ever describe. Rest easy now. xoxo
Errol
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When I finally escaped the clutches of Hendrix's cold death grip, to make it to Atlas's studio, It felt like a breath of fresh air.
The small old run down thing was starting to grow on me, and as I spent more time here with Atlas, I understood why he stayed.
Besides a few issues like losing power randomly during a storm, the place had its charm. You just had to get over the potholes the size of Texas in the microscopic parking lot, and you were met with a quiet space tucked away from civilization. It was nestled in a part of town that had very little traffic.
I felt like I was escaping into a different realm or something, far detached from the inner city living I was so used to. If you'd ask me what I though of this space a mere month ago, I'd tell you I wouldn't be caught dead here, but now the inner city was starting to feel a bit too... loud.
Like I had no space to think.
And maybe I wanted that a month or so ago... to not think.
Maybe I neededthat.
But now I needed something else.
The smile on Atlas's face when I entered his studio Sunday afternoon, damn near solidified that.
"Hi." Atlas's smile widened as I set a few things down on one of his work tables, icluding his now dry and clean clothes. Dash was sitting right next to Atlas at his wheel, just watching him mold the clay.
It was a setting I'd seen now a handful of times, but it still took me back whenever I saw Atlas. How in his element he was when he worked. He also had on similar bright yellow overalls like the ones he was wearing when I found him here Friday night, which led me to believe this man must've had an unlimited stash somewhere.
"Hey." I replied, matching that smile with one of my own. "I'm sorry again about yesterday, I just got so freaking busy." This had to be my four hundredth apology in the last 24 hours, and judging by the look Atlas gave me, he knew it too. He was the first person I had ever apologized this much to, besides my mother. She was still collecting apologies from beyond the grave.
"Seriously, don't worry about it. You've got a lot on your plate right now, and it gave me time to really get some work done. The power outage was an unexpected delay." He replied with a comforting level of understanding.
Sometimes I forgot Atlas had other pieces he was working on besides my own, and I openly owned my narcissism associated with that thought.
"Well hopefully you'll let me steal you away for an hour or so. I made us some lunch." I explained, holding up the picnic basket to Atlas as if he could see it, before I embarrassingly set it back on the table. "There's a park nearby I thought we could eat at, soak up some of this perfect weather."
