by Samantha Lee
The artist was seated at the top of the cliff when I clambered over the edge.
“Did you find it on the way up?” he asked. “Fulfillment?”
“Not yet,” I said. “Not this time.”
The painting was the Yosemite backcountry, transcendent white and green under a crystal sky. My yellow windbreaker, earthbound, was a drop of paint drowned by the expanse.
“I call it Solitude,” said the artist.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” I said. “I’m sick of solitude.”
He dipped his brush into cherry-red, and I left him painting.
I met her on the way down. Her windbreaker was cherry-red.
I am a writer, nurse, and rock climber currently living in Vero Beach, FL.
Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal, and The BG News. He has also worked as a professional writer and editor in the medical publishing industry for several years. For the last 15 years Richard has also taught literature and writing at the secondary and post-secondary levels. He works much of the time with at-risk students.