It was some unknown bridge cast away in a dingy corner of the country. He had been walking, getting away from the overwhelming perfection in the city. It was beautiful, no doubt, but too much of it made him feel inferior, like he didn’t belong. He saw a girl on that bridge. She was painting, putting that faraway ancient castle onto paper. They looked exactly the same. If he hadn’t known, he would have thought it were a photograph. He walked over quietly, taking care not to disrupt the painter. She wore a faded overall atop a light green shirt. A pair of grey, once-white sneakers lay on the ground beside her. Her arms and wrists were bare, save for a few splattered paint drops. Her hair was long, dark brown, slightly tousled, with her fringe tucked behind her ear. She must have heard his footsteps, for her hand stopped painting and she turned her head slightly. Her face looked tired, a little weary, with the ghost of a smile flitting across her lips.

“Do you mind if I watch?” She seemed to think it through, before shaking her head.

“Great.” He sat down beside her, maintaining a respectful distance. He didn’t want to scare her, nor knock over the clutter on the ground.

“Please do continue,” he gestured towards the painting. A light crease appeared on her forehead. She never did like being ordered around, even by strangers. He didn’t seem to have noticed. She sighed and lifted the minute brush once more. A little red, then orange, white for the light, black in the shadows, green for the moss, blue and grey for waters. A little more orange, and–

“It’s going to be a masterpiece.” She froze, unable to believe what she had heard. No, he had it all wrong. She set down her instrument, caressing the edge of the easel, running her fingers over a jutting, rusted nail.

“No.”

“Why not? It’s perfect, flawless.”

She shook her head again, slowly this time. Leaving the man beside her in confusion, she added the finishing touches of silver to rippling waters. Then she picked up a black ink pen, signing her name at the bottom right corner neatly.

“Han Seungyeon.”

“Yes?” She smiled, amused.

“No, I mean…” He trailed off.

Silence ensued. For a full five minutes, they stayed there, the girl staring at the castle, the boy at her painting.

“Why is it not a masterpiece?” She pointed at the castle as an answer. He frowned. She then spoke.

“They’re exactly the same.” He raised an eyebrow, probing her on.

“It’s a replica. It shows what everyone sees. It’s a mere transfer, that’s all it is.”

“But it takes a great deal of skill.”

“And the mess is still within.”

He said nothing.

She then picked up another brush, the largest she had, and dipped it into dark grey paint. She dragged it across the painting. His eyes widened as he watched her ruin what he supposed was beautiful. She didn’t transform it. She ruined it. That’s all she did.

It was now streaked with black slashes and unidentifiable swirls. Dull, random spots of paint and wild clashing colours. Traces of the castle could still be seen in patches framed by ugly scrawls. It was a waste of art, he thought. She splattered water across the painting, smudging and disfiguring it further. He wanted to make her stop, and at that moment she ceased the destruction.

“I’m done.”

He looked at it, and each square inch his eyes swept over seemed to conjure up something in him, a wave of loss so strong it nearly choked. She watched his distraught expression carefully. He still didn’t understand.

“This is a masterpiece.” His gaze only held incredulity and bewilderment.

“Will you explain?” It wasn’t an order. She searched his eyes, and nodded. She glanced at the piece of art.

“I see anything, and everything. The mess is inside no longer.”

As he drew a shaken breath, she took the canvas off its seat and rolled it up.

“Aren’t you going to sign on it?”

She held up the canvas, now a scroll bound with ripped hair ribbons.

“This is who I am.”

He brought away the memory of a girl he found on the bridge. Han Seungyeon, the girl who in her trail of shadows left mess and masterpiece.

Challenge #2 |08/03/2013|14/03/2013 – 15/03/2013