Some of the most amazing paintings I have ever seen are those of Kim Sungjoon. He is a quiet man in his early sixties, and he lives alone in a small old house on the edge of town. Thomas is a portrait painter, the best any of us have ever seen. Each one of his paintings is a Mona Lisa, every little detail of your head, face, and upper body is exact. However, how he paints them is the question.

 

               You see, Mr. Kim has been completely blind since the day he was born. Somehow, though, he can paint you. It’s as if he can “see” you when you’re sitting in front of him, having your portrait painted. How he discovered this ability, or how he can do it, is unknown, and he will not tell. If you bring him payment, he will paint you, and he will paint you beautifully.

 

                So here I am walking up to the front door of his house. When I arrived, I stood there, still and nervous. I was alone, as it is said he will not paint with others around. After a deep breath, I rang the doorbell. I waited a moment. Finally, he opened the door. His gray eyes looked over my head, and he was holding a cane.

 

                 “Mr. Kim, my name is Chen, and I want to be…..” my voice trailed off in nervousness.

                 “To be painted, right?” he said. “Do you have money to pay me?”

                 “Of course, a hundred thousand yen.” I said

 

                 He nodded and told me to come inside after I gave him the money. The house’s interior was nice and simple. I eyed a stack of books on a table. One was opened, and I could see that it was written in braille. He lead me into a back room and told me to sit on a stool. Nothing was in the room except for a chair and canvas, the stool, and painting supplies. I sat down and he sat behind the canvas.

 

                  “Now son, I must warn you, sometimes I paint too far forward.” Mr. Kim warned.

 

                  To far forward? What's that supposed to mean? Maybe at times, he paints the wall behind the person, or the yard outside the house?

 

                   I dismissed the comment since I had the feeling he wasn’t all there. He then started painting. I sat there for what seemed like forever. Neither one of us said a word, and not once did Thomas look at me. His eyes were closed the whole time. Perhaps….he could see me in some way…..

 

                   Finally, he put his brush down. “It is done.” He said, and motioned me to come see.

 

                   Once I saw the painting, I felt chills run down my spine.

 

                   The painting was me alright, down to every hair on my head, but the state I was in was….horrible. I was laying on a wooden floor and my throat was sliced open, one of my arms was gone, and I was covered in what looked to be stab wounds, and bruises and blood. My eyes were glazed over and bloodshot. Clearly, I was dead. What the hell is this!? Mr. Kim painted me as a boy who was brutally murdered?! Heck, I was even wearing the same outfit I was currently wearing.

 

                   I stepped back. “Why did you paint this!? Why would you paint such horror happening to me!? Mr. Kim looked down with a grim face.

 

                   “I told you, sometimes I paint too far forward.” he said.

 

                   Huh? What?

 

                   I was about to speak my mind when he looked back up at me. “Sometimes I paint something that hasn’t happened yet.”

 

 

 

.