Last night I was too tired to sit at my desk so I took my notebook to bed with me and scribbled before lights out. Let's see what I got...
September 22--William Strong, The Japanese Fan. Susan wished he would hurry. She had agreed to model for her neighbor hoping that he wouldn't ask her to pose nude. She had only seen sketches and some landscapes that hung in his living room. They were innocuous so she wasn't too worried. She had met his wife and she could see why he hadn't asked her to pose. Mrs. Strong looked like she had suffered a great tragedy that had shrunk her, but not her clothes. they looked like they had been bought for someone six sizes larger. Susan was a bit relieved when Mr. Strong ushered her into his studio to see Mrs. Strong nestled in an overstuffed chair in the corner. The painter had pinned a band with a feather in it around her forehead and handed her a red paper fan to hold. He posed her just so, admonishing her to hold still. He painted and hummed while Mrs. Strong sat in her chair, her beady eyes glittering in their sunken sockets while she devoured an entire bag of potato chips. Not very artistic food, Susan thought, as she watched the skeletal woman wipe her greasy fingers on the arm of the chair.
Kind of scattered and jumbled but I like the old lady crouched like a spider in the corner.
--Barbara
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