The Not Normal Day

My day started out with the inspiration to create something new. This is rather unusual for me, as I pick a project and run with it until it is completed. Today, apparently, had other plans for me as my muse struck. It was a stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. A brilliant painting would come of this idea, I was sure of it. But as any unusual day goes, the world had other plans for me.

I went down to my studio almost immediately, stopping to grab coffee on the way. I needed the coffee to function, and I have no shame in admitting that. I have always loved my studio. It is a peaceful place, with large windows that let in a lot of light. My roommates know when I'm in my studio, I shouldn't be disturbed. It is my place, and they respect that, on a normal day.

Today was not a normal day.

I had everything set up how I wanted it. My easel facing the door so all the natural light from the windows shone upon the canvas. My paints and brushes were to the side, just waiting for their chance to shine. My coffee was on the table behind me, within reach, but far enough away to not be a risk to my art. Everything was perfect. I was ready to create.

Unfortunately, one of my roommates decided that I was not ready to create. He burst through the door without even knocking as I was picking up my brush. I glared at him, but he did not seem to notice. If he did, he most definitely did not care.

"Harry, don't tell me you forgot!" He shouted at me. He was always shouting. "Today's Sam's birthday! We're taking him out for breakfast. Remember?"

I, in fact, did not remember. I gave him a cold look, hoping he'd just go away.

"Oh my God, you did forget, didn't you?"

"Of course I didn't forget, Mark."

I had totally forgotten.

"Whatever you say Harry. Let's go, or we're going to be late! Bring you art stuff if you insist."

He turned and left the room. I began to pack all my supplies away, irritated that I didn't get to use them yet. I was also irritated that Mark didn't even apologize for bursting into my sacred space like he had. I packed my stuff in a bag, and left my studio. At least I'd be near the park after breakfast. That was another one of my favorite places to work.

Breakfast was a casual affair. Why we were celebrating a birthday during the morning instead of partying at night like most people do I could not understand. It was nice, though, to see my roommates. Sometimes I let myself get caught up in my projects and I forget there is a life outside of my work. The waitress used my phone to snap a picture of the group, and I put on my best smile even though I was grumpy.

When all was done and the meal had been paid for, I bid my roommates farewell before heading to the park. It was a rather nice park, as far as I'm concerned. It had huge trees that had witnessed several generations of families come through. They filtered the sunlight through their leaves, and created mesmerizing patterns with their shadows.

I set my easel up underneath one of the trees. I had brought my little work table with me to hold my paints and other supplies. I had to adjust several times before I had the lighting just right on the canvas. I looked around, relieved to see that the park was blissfully empty of people today. I reached for a brush, and on a normal day, I would have begun my painting.

Today was not a normal day.

"Harry! I've been texting you all morning!" A tall, gorgeous man is walking my way.

It's my boyfriend, and he has such lousy timing. I look to my phone to see that I did miss quite a few texts from him.

He finally reaches me and pulls me into a hug. "Ah, sorry. Did I interrupt you and your creative process?"

At least someone can apologize for interrupting me.

"It's fine, Jack. I haven't managed to start anything yet anyway."

"Well, great! I may have managed to snag tickets to the new play they're putting on at the theater. The show is in half an hour and I was really hoping that you'd come see it with me.

I sigh, and then I nod. I am a sucker for the theater and he knows it. He helps me pack up my stuff, and we walk to the theater. They make me leave my stuff with the concierge. I'm not thrilled about it, but I understand.

The play turns out to be pretty good, in the end. It was about a forbidden romance in the midst of a major civil war. An overplayed topic, but they performed it well.

"Thanks for coming, Harry! I know how important your art is to you, so I know what this took for you to break away from your art for just a little while."

I shrugged, "my art is important, but so are you."

Jack smiled at me. He knows what his smile does to me.

"Oh my God, you two are adorable!" One of the cast members from the play is smiling at us. "Can I take a picture of you?" She is remarkably bubbly.

I looked to Jack, who shrugged. I looked back at the woman and nodded. In an instant, her phone is in her hand, and she snaps a picture of us.

"What are your numbers? I'll text these to you."

After that, Jack and I are on our way. We are headed to his flat, and I can't help but smile. His flat is the last place on my list of favorite places to work. It's not large, but it is very open. Jack keeps it clean, and it always has a fresh scent to it. I love it. I love him.

Once we are inside, I begin the setup process once more. Everything was perfect. Jack was sitting behind me, just waiting to see what I make. Jack loves to watch me paint. I had the brush in hand, and dip it into the paint. Finally, I was going to make my masterpiece, had it been a normal day.

Today was not a normal day.

It started with a light in the corner of Jack's room, followed by an alarm.

"Warning, smoke has been detected in the building. Please head to the nearest fire exit and evacuate the building." A robotic woman's voice filled the room. The alarm and the message repeated.

I tried to grab my stuff, but Jack told me it was not worth dying over art supplies that could be replaced. He dragged me down the hall, and out to the fire escape. We went down the three flights of stairs. Once we were across the street, I turned around and was shocked to see black billowing smoke coming from the building. It really was on fire.

Seconds later, a firetruck with blaring sirens pulled up. We watched them for hours as the fought the fire, and eventually they contained it. They said the building wasn't safe for people to return to, but they let us in to grab anything important.

Jack's apartment was alright, though it smelled of smoke. My supplies had survived too. I helped Jack pack a bag of clothes and essentials, and then I packed up my own supplies. We made the trek across town to my apartment, and went inside.

It was blissfully empty. I wasn't sure where all of my roommates were, and I didn't care. I set my supplies down, and Jack gave me a look.

"You've been trying to work all day, I can tell. I've never seen you just put your stuff down without touching it."

I smiled up at him. "We could have died today, Jack. On a normal day, I would agree with you. I would be jumping to make my masterpiece, but now it doesn't seem like it matters. Let's go lay down, I'm tired and want to just be with you."

On a normal day, Jack would have gone to bed and would be sleeping by the time I got there. On a normal day, I would have settled next to him and been happy. On a normal day, we wouldn't have possibly died in a fire.

We get to my bed and both flop on it. He pulls me close to him. On a normal day, I wouldn't get this from him.

I am glad today is not a normal day.