The painting is a riot of color and strokes, melancholy blues and grays mixed with garish neon shades of pink and yellow. Richard tilts his head to the side, a puzzled expression on his face. The pretty brunette he noticed as soon as he walked into the store wanders over nearby, absently running her fingers over a wooden sculpture of a carabao.
Richard frowns and tilts his head the other way, narrowing his eyes.
"What do you think?" The brunette asks, suddenly appearing next to him, startling him.
He turns to look at her, his brows slightly furrowed in confusion. "Of this painting?"
"Yes," she replies, her voice surprisingly husky and appealing. "I'm thinking of giving it to a friend."
"Really?" Richard blurts out before he can stop himself, a dubious expression on his face.
She laughs, a pleasant, melodious laugh. "Okay, I guess that means you don't like it."
"No, no," he backpedals, chuckling sheepishly. He shrugs. "Well, I don't know much about art. I'm sure someone who does could give you a much better opinion."
She raises an eyebrow and gives him a knowing smile. "Safe answer."
They both stand in silence for a minute, looking up at the painting. Out of the corner of his eye, Richard checks her out. She's beautiful, with a dusky, sultry kind of beauty—rich brown hair, wide doe eyes, and the most tempting pair of plump, full lips he's ever seen on anyone other than Angelina Jolie. She opens her mouth to speak again, and he quickly averts his eyes back to the picture on the wall.
"Pero hindi nga. Yung totoo, ano sa tingin mo? I won't tell anyone what you said, it'll just be our little secret."
"Weeeeell. Okay, I don't like it." They both laugh. "Ewan ko. Parang ang gulo lang kasi. Yung tipong...walang focus ba? I don't get what the artist is trying to say—if they're even trying to say anything at all. The way I see it, it's like they just randomly threw a bunch of paint on a piece of canvas without really thinking about it, and it resulted in this mess." He shrugs again. "But again, what do I know? Maybe it's just not my style."
"Hmmm. Okay." She purses her lips thoughtfully, mulling over his words.
Richard steps closer to the painting, looking for a signature. "I wonder who the artist is. There are several other paintings like this in here..."
The pretty brunette hesitates for a beat, then lets out another musical laugh. "I am. I'm the artist."