Lost and Found

Alice lay strewn across her bed. Sunshine was thrown across her disheveled sheets and a covered canvas lay in the corner. While cans did strew the floor, the apartment was still clinging onto a

semblance of cleanliness; seen in an abandoned vacuum cleaner that spent it's days battling the forces of disorganization.

Interrupting the monotony, the doorbell sounded at her apartment’s door.

Alice groaned and got up, if unwillingly. Her hair was a rat's nest, and shades were under her eyes. She walked zombie-like, into her living room, and shuffled over to the front door.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Uh, hello?" the man behind the door asked. "Alice, is that you?”

“Shawn?” Rubbing her eyes, she opened the door. Outside stood a brunette with a rugged backpack on his shoulders and a Red Sox hat.

Alice stared at him and ruffled her hair. “I can’t believe it’s you.” Ushering him in, she said, “Uh, come in.”

The wanderer put his backpack on the sofa and followed Alice into the kitchen. She glanced back at him, still in a little disbelief.

“Last time we saw each other was when you quit college,” said Alice. She remembered vividly how he had dropped out, saying that he was breaking out of a broken system. “You’re still a hitchhiker?”

“Yeah. Pretty great lifestyle. Figured I’d stop by your place while I was in the area.” As Shawn looked around, he saw dirty dishes strewn in the sink. Alice pulled leftovers out of the fridge. “Besides, I’d figure that I’d catch up with you, see how you were doing.”

She threw leftover chicken onto a pan and heated it. “Well, that’s nice, but I don’t have much going on right now” Pointing at a cabinet behind him, she said, “Can you grab some plates. The plastic ones, please. And plastic forks.”

Shawn grabbed them and set the dining table in the living room. Soon enough, Alice had served them. They ate ravenously; both hadn’t eaten the night before.

They didn't talk much. Perhaps they both sensed the tension in the air. After they were done, Shawn said, “So, uh, how’s that art thing you wanted to do?”

Alice didn’t look him in the eye as she got up and started cleaning the table. “Oh, I stopped doing that a while back… It didn’t pay the bills, and I needed a job.”

Shawn stood up and helped her throw out the plates and forks. “Too bad. I really thought you would make it, you know.” He shook his head as he scrubbed “Me, I don’t mind my job. Love living on the road.”

“Come on, you don’t even know where you’re going most of the time.”

“All too true.”

As they left the kitchen, and Alice said “Listen, let me get ready, and then we can keep talking. Did you just want breakfast, or also a place to crash?”

“Both.”

“Alright, set yourself up on the couch.”

Alice went over to spruce herself up, while Shawn sat on the couch and took out his computer and microphone to write briefly for his blog. After he had finished, he stood up and walked over to Alice’s room. He could still hear her in the shower, and as he looked around, he saw the canvas in the corner.

Curious, he uncovered it and saw splashes of color against a white background. It was abstract; black, blue, and red. As he looked it over, Alice came out of the bathroom wearing a towel.

Shawn glanced at her. “This is great. I don’t know why you gave up working on this. Look, I think maybe you should get back to art."

Alice raised her eyebrow.

"I already told you-"

"It's just that, you don't look that happy. Your place is a mess, there's trash everywhere. Don't you think that-"

"Look," she said, rubbing her forehead. "You don't get to come in here after years, and then just tell me what I'm doing wrong. I mean, I take you in and this is how you treat me?"

Shawn smiled sadly, picking up on what was really going on. "Look-"

“Get out”

After he left and she had dressed, Alice looked at the uncovered painting.

She sighed and went to the living room.

"Shawn, I'm going to work. Don't mess up the apartment, alright?"

He dramatically looked offended. "You know me better than that. Where do you work anyway?"

"Uh... Part-time at a firm." She didn't look at him as she went outside and left."

At first, Shawn spent time working on his blog, but at lunch, he looked for something to eat, and deciding not to subject himself to cleaning the fridge, went out to eat.

As he passed by different restaurants while out walking, he went to Krusty's burgers. The door ringed, and he smelled grease as he went in. At the cash register, he was greeted by a young blond woman, very familiar to him.

"Hello sir, how may I... Shawn?! What are you doing here?

"One cheeseburger combo, please. Nice firm you've got here." He handed over the money.

"Oh, shut up."

Shawn was served his food at sat at a window table, eating his food. Alice joined him shortly after, on her lunch break.

Alice started, "Look, nobody likes admitting that they work at a fast-food restaurant. You can't fault me for that."

"I didn't say anything. Almost seems like you're projecting yourself onto me." Wiping his mouth, Shawn looked at her and said, "I'm not saying your life sucks or that you're doing something wrong, but you used to be fun. Happy, even. Now you're, I don't know. Down."

"Master of poetry"

"Just think about it." He finished his meal and left, leaving Alice to think where it had all gone wrong.

Later that day at night, Alice clocked out and walked back to her apartment, eyes down. When she arrived, Shawn was already asleep, and she went to her room.

Her canvas stood in the corner, asking for her, mocking her. It hurt, almost physically to look at it.

She took off the canvas and set it gently on the bed. She looked at her work, abstract and colorful. It had hurt so much when nobody had bought her paintings. Hesitantly, she grabbed a new one from her dusty closet.

Putting it on the pedestal, she grabbed her paints again and started painting. When the tip of the brush touched the canvas, at first she didn't know what to do. Screw it, she thought.

She slashed color onto the canvas, slowly at first, but gradually improving and getting the hang of it. She didn't know what she was making, or where it was going, but at least she had started.