The king wiped his forehead with a silk handkerchief as he looked down at the busy streets below his royal balcony. It's been four years since the coronation and not a minute of that time seemed to be wasted. Taxes, decrees and ambassadors filled every single day from dusk till dawn. He was respected for his majesty and for his highness and yet each time he looked in a mirror he would see a face that did not share that respect. When was the last time he took time to smell a flower or to lie on a grass and watch the clouds? Doing such simple things can be very difficult for a king. He looked beyond the city walls at the trees he had used to climb as a boy. Those days had been filled with laughter, dreams and endless promises of never growing up. Aging comes slowly and has an army of earthly cares to fight its way to a human heart. Is it possible to... The king stood for a while watching the trees moving in the wind. Their branches seemed to wave at him gently. "Wait for me", he said at last, "I'm coming".
"The King", 30x40cm, acrylic on canvas
I hope you like my painting and the short story I wrote about it.
See you next week!