Work Title



Arthur E. Graham


Turning the frame so that the painting better reflected the meagre light filtering through the window, Carl scrutinized his work. It was a still life, dissimilar only in its crudeness from anyone of the thousands like it hanging in galleries and homes; The reds and yellows had been dulled with too much blue, giving the apples and bananas an over-ripe, indigestible appearance; the green cloth lay in folds that only paint and brush could make it assume; the bowl was as unnaturally distorted as the fruit was artificially symmetrical. Slowly Carl moved in a semi-circle in front of the picture, examining from different angles, and as he moved, the dirty lines in his face lengthened. Finally he stopped and raised his arm in a contemptuous gesture, as though he would strike the painting with the back of his hand, but instead he turned away and stared despairingly out the window.



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