Excellent A short story Picasso summer. by judester Short Story contest entry Artwork by Linda Bickston at FanArtReview.com

Jenny sauntered happily through the sunny woods. A wild daisy tucked through her long golden hair bobbed along with her. It was early days of summer and she felt adventurous and free. She came to her favorite leafy spot. The mountains stretched out before her from the cliff. White clouds scudded across the blue sky. She noticed a brightly coloured caravan with a camp fire beside the lake. Two young children played with a feisty dog, some kind of catch and release game. Jenny settled beneath the cedar tree to watch them play. Suddenly, a boy her age stepped from the caravan. He was simply beautiful. Jenny held her breath as she watched him stretch towards the sky. His long black hair, braided down his back, shone in the sun. He called out to the children and they ran excitedly towards him. He ruffled their hair and pressed something into their outstretched hands. With a whoop of joy, the children ran away, the dog close on their heels. They settled beneath the striped awning and began to play with little corn husk dolls. She imagined the gentle big brother making dolls for his siblings while they slept, then presenting the gifts the next day. Jenny felt her heart fill with joy. He was gentle and talented. She sighed and continued watching the camp. The young man leaned easily against a huge stone. In his hand, an artist's pad. He gazed at the mountains, then thoughtfully began to sketch. At that moment, Jenny fell in love. She did not know his name, but she knew right then, that she loved him. Every day, Jenny would return to her spot, hidden by the trees as she watched this fascinating family. The mother was now a familiar face. Jenny would watch her cook, entranced by the delicious smells wafting up to her clandestine perch. Pots of black beans, golden tortillas and apple cake, all prepared outside and cooked on the fire. The young man, whom she now called Picasso, sketched every day. Jenny strained to see his artwork, but was just too far away. She imagined his paintings were glorious. Summer wound down and the leaves began to change. Jenny now wore her green sweater and boots against the chill. On an overcast autumn day, Jenny arrived through the forest and stared in disbelief! The caravan was gone! Her heart turned to ice against her chest. She could feel it slowly break into sharp, shattered pieces. A fluttering white paper and colorful doll were pinned to a tall pine tree by the lake. Sadly, she made her way down to the abandoned campsite and gently pulled the painting from the tree. It was a glimpse of her. Her, in delicate strokes of soft color. Her, crouched beneath the tree, entranced with the artist. He had captured her perfectly. Even she could see the love that shone from her face in the painting. She smiled and gently released the little corn husk doll. It really did look like her with yellow hair, even her green sweater. She held it against her cheek as tears fell. Jenny walked slowly home, kicking the crimson leaves in her path. That week~end, Jenny wandered through the village farmers market. Her heart soared to see a couple of girls holding onto little corn husk dolls, then another. Jenny followed the path of little dolls until she found herself at a colorful stall. She saw Picasso, laughing with a group of kids. She ran to him and held his hands. "I thought you were gone forever. You are here," she wept. She looked up into his smiling brown eyes. "Silly, that was our summer camp. We have moved into our new house, just down the street." Author Notes Thanks to Linda Bickston for the artwork.

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