Wird sie kommen ? Viendra-t-elle ? Will she come ? (2022) Painting by Otto Frühwach

WILL SHE COME ? - Ink painting by Otto Fruehwach. Fine Art Edition canvas print with an edition of 100. 365 g/m² cotton-polyester fabric. Real wood stretcher frame from certified forestry. Inspired by the following short story by Carla Beltempo WILL SHE COME? by Carla Beltempo She will come. She will come for sure. He cupped his hands over the cappucino and inhaled the scent. Just as he had always smelled her, the smell of her hair, the smell of her throat. What if she doesn't come? He felt dizzy at the thought. Yes, she will come! He was the last customer in the restaurant. It was late and no one went out in this weather. It had been pouring cats and dogs for hours. Yes, you will definitely come! He had met you three months ago at a vernissage. A new gallery also exhibited one of his paintings. Her eyes met and she smiled and he knew he had known you forever. It was quick. That same night he attacked you like a hungry animal. A hunger that could not be satisfied. You met as often as possible and he loved you in stolen hours. After that he mostly talked: about the painters, about the artistic work, about genius, about the moods and the inspirational source. And the artist's fear of their dwindling. She just listened to him and smiled. She hardly said anything. He knew that he was well received by women: good-looking, slim, tall, his slightly graying hair mostly disheveled, absent-minded and yet attentive and charming. Ever since he first saw you, all of a sudden his previous life had faded and become stale. There was only one thing for him: you. He had only one thought: you. He only noticed his wife and children as if in a fog. Yes, you would come ! Today he came clean. He did it the cowardly way. In the afternoon he wrote his wife a letter in which he explained everything. Not to justify himself, but so that she might understand him, he explained everything to her in detail. He left the letter on her bed so she would find it when she got home from the night shift. He knew it would break her heart! He knew he would never return home. He would live a new life and only his love. He put his new love on the mailbox that he was free now and that she should come to the bar if she wanted him forever. The wind-swept rain rolled down the window pane. He tried to look at the street and there she was! The rain was pouring down her, her hair was soaking wet, her blouse was sticking to her body. She has never been so beautiful, he thought. Otherwise perfectly styled, he found her even more beautiful now, as he thought he recognized a certain natural simplicity in her. She stepped in the door. He didn't want to be without her for a second longer! He jumped up, threw the money on the table, rushed towards her and hugged her tightly. He would never let go of her again. They would be together forever now. While he hugged her tightly, almost a little too tightly, she looked at the table he had been sitting at and saw the waiter clearing away the cappucino, pocketing the money and giving them a short nod. "Hey, you," she cried, "do you always do it like that, you just pocket the change?!" She squirmed out of his embrace. "And you, you probably don't need to ask for change, the money probably grows on trees for you, every golden year you sell a picture and think you can give fat Maxe." They had left the bar and headed towards his car. "I just went shopping today and had to pay three euros more for toilet paper, washing powder and pads than the last time I went shopping, you have to look at the money these days, you don't have to go shopping, yes, fine Of course, the artist doesn't need to rack his brains about something like that, he's floating in completely different spheres!" The rain stopped abruptly and somehow a foul smell began to spread through the streets. "I mean, how do you imagine it now? Of course you can live with me first, but I only have two rooms and I think we would have to look for a larger apartment, two rooms are cozy but in the long run? A Speaking of cuddly, well I think now that we don't have to meet secretly anymore and have more time I expect more romance, so Jessica is my girlfriend, he's her boyfriend, well that's what they agreed that one day a week romance- day, it's Thursday for them because he's free and he does things like that, well last time he had rose petals, but they weren't real, they were bought, he strewed them from the door to the bathroom and then he lit candles and let in champagne and the bath and so on, I think you could do something like that too, right?" He had the feeling they had been on the road for an hour now, how long can a few hundred meters be? "By the way, the job in the gallery really annoys me, always this chatter about art and artists and I always have to put on a smart face even though I don't understand anything at all, I'd much rather start my own business, maybe with a nail salon or solarium and so on or so with a tapas bar with lots of cool people and stuff, I could also become an influencer with fashion and cosmetics and something like that, but you don't earn anything so I don't know how that's supposed to work." He had stopped listening to her a long time ago and a longing rose up in him. A longing for his wife, his children and his old life! It's not too late yet ! She's not home yet! She hasn't read the letter yet! He saw his car down the street. Without realizing it, he quickened his steps. He walked faster and faster until he finally ran! He yanked open the car door, jumped in, started the engine, and sped away without looking back! He raced through town. Then his cell phone rang. He raced on undiminished and read the SMS: "Come home early today!" He looked down the street again. The traffic light had been red. WITH KIND THANKS TO CARLA BELTEMPO FOR PERMISSION TO PUBLISH ON ARTMAJEUR.