Work Text:
“If you step through that door, don’t bother coming back!”
Seth slammed the door behind himself. She’d let him back in, wasn’t her first threat. He just needed… time. Space. Since the questions started, he’s been outside more than ever before. Maybe she was right, that this wasn’t a change he could make. Work would fight back, and they couldn’t afford him losing their income.
But it was all just so… wrong. If he could start over, he gladly would, but 13 years in is too late. Hands in pockets, he strolled the street, making his way to the boardwalk. The ocean air always cleared his head. It was his goto after these fights.
As he walked the old boards, a strain of music floated over the air. Something that tried to jostle a memory free. Light and jaunty, the song reminded him of childhood, of a beach and creatures in caves. He smiled for a bit. Games weren’t something he had the luxury for anymore, no time or money, but he kept the memories around, faded as they were. What he would have given to be a part of them once again.
“Scuse me sir!” The sound of one of the boardwalk barkers caught him off guard, their words grating in a way he wasn’t expecting. “Scuse me. Sorry, my name is Samantha, and I wanted to know if you’d be interested in some art?” He looked at the canvases, all filled with pictures of people, dogs, animals he vaguely recalled. The sign said $20 for a portrait, so he shrugged and pulled the bill he kept around out. “Uh, sure. I guess.”
With the rise of AI, genuine art was becoming a thing he cherished, something with heart and soul that he would always fund people for. And the art was good. He couldn’t pass it up, even if she’d rip him a new one for something so frivolous.
Seated next to the artist, she began working, sketching quickly, followed up with some very flashy spray paint work. It was rough, but she managed it in just a few minutes, and he was content to have something to stay outside a bit longer for. “Definitely my trickiest one yet, hehe, but practice makes perfect, right?” Seth gave her a confused look. Not the normal banter of these boardwalk vendors. Especially the tricky part. The word felt… loaded, like the meaning was wrong. She spun the art around, and when he saw it, he was mixed with confusion and awe.
It was a beautiful peace, especially for something made so quickly, and with just spray paint. But the subject confused him even more. A grey anthropomorphic fox stared back at him, eyes filled with tears. His baffled expression must have been noticed, cause the artist pipped up, “Portrait of the soul. Do you like it?” He loved it, not only for the skill and quality, but because… somewhere deep inside him, it felt right. The conversation from earlier rushed back into his brain, and more that ever, he wishes she could be right this time.
“Of course, the soul and body rarely reflect each other well. Not here anyways.” She signed the art, and offered him the pen, which he took, confused. “Wouldn’t it be nice if there was a place like that?” He nodded. In the games he played, there was a place like that. But it was fantasy, and the real world doesn’t play by those rules.
Painting, and pen, in hand, he started walking home. He had no idea how he’d explain to her, and as he walked, he considered throwing it away. She didn’t know of the cash, and that could stay that way. But… he couldn’t toss it. There was something too perfect, too alluring.
The music drifted by again. Quiet by calming. A safe place for those seeking adventure. That was the music. A cafe serving special blended drinks. The store, run by the brothers two. The wonderful mom and her child helping others keep track of things. And the beach, where sometimes stars fell.
The painting lay on the ground, a tire ran over it. When the police found it, she confirmed it looked just like him. A perfect portrait. They never found his body.
An ocean of time and space… the laugh of the trickster fox.
A wish granted.