John Singer Sargent. 'A Dinner Table at Night 1884' |
She’d hoped for more from this dinner party, the lovely, lonely widow. Making small talk with the animated gentleman her host had so thoughtfully seated to her left, whilst all the time she ached for a sympathetic companion to touch her artistic soul. She so wanted someone to re-discover the poet within her, to light again the spark of creativity. Instead the red glow of the lamps suffused the darkened room only adding to her desolation. She sighed and turned pointedly away, taking a sip of her port, and looked hopefully and longingly at the vacant chair beside her.
When she looked up he was standing, smiling back at her, deftly sketching in his pocket notebook. She didn’t know whether to speak or smile, or even turn away. In the end the prospect of having to nod politely, and make appropriate noises, whilst inhaling the cigar smoke wafting in her direction, decided her. She turned back and caught the artist’s eye. He snapped the notebook shut and tilted his head slightly, raising his eyebrows. questioningly. She felt the old familiar sensation as her cheeks began to burn, and was suddenly grateful for the dim lighting disguising the reddening glow. She clutched the stem of her glass more tightly and sensed the beginnings of an uncertain smile.
She felt that he had seen beyond her vulnerable beauty and caught something of the longing to just be alive again, to communicate and share, receive and give. She wanted to speak but found the words just wouldn’t form. She ran her tongue around her dry mouth and fixed her eyes on the silver tableware. There she saw, reflecting back at her, a newly confident woman. She allowed herself the full smile and, eyes sparkling in the now warm red lamplight, answered his question by raising the glass to her lips and draining the last few drops as she turned her gaze in his direction.
© Marilyn Brindley
© Marilyn Brindley
Taking part in The Mag courtesy of Tess Kincaid. See what others have made of this prompt.
yes ...I think that Yeats was there or maybe both Yeats! that would have made the evening for her! one to release the poet and the other to paint the soul!!
ReplyDeleteI believe you've captured the inner longings of what many women feel at times.
ReplyDeleteNice prose writing ~ I like that she looked at the reflection and raised the glass to her lips ~ I hope she is proven right and her artist soul would find wings ~
ReplyDeleteAn intriguing tale, artfully told - what we have a right to expect from Little N.
ReplyDeletevery nicely told...how being noticed definitely makes one feel a bit more alive...i like how you let this develop very naturally as well....nice
ReplyDeleteI did enjoy this Lovely tale. All the while I wished I was she and I know what she was going through.
ReplyDeleteThis is excellent , Nell, i enjoyed it, there us something quite underworldly Plutonic about the red glow, your right.
ReplyDeleteHello Marilyn:
ReplyDeleteWe have much enjoyed your interpretation of this wonderful painting by Sargent, an artist whose work we very much admire.
Very nicely done, Nell. Now you've set us up for the next instalment.
ReplyDeletePerhaps I should raise a glass of port to you? LOL :)
ReplyDeleteA charming snap. Nicely written Nell.
ReplyDeleteI think this is excellent - one of the best pieces you've written.
ReplyDeletetell me more!!....lovelyxx
ReplyDeleteMaybe that lady is me!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully descriptive; emotions captured very keenly.
I don't know much about Sargent, but I do appreciate this painting, I like his style. Great accompanying story, it's almost like you were there.
ReplyDeleteI know just how she feels...
ReplyDeleteWell written. A delight to read.
ReplyDelete=)
You've given her the voice most women back then were not permitted to have or express. I love the detail of her holding the glass and then holding it even tighter. I can feel her yearning through your word paint.
ReplyDeleteA really lovely write.
A very romantic tale! Romance, flirtation, and reawakening! I love it!
ReplyDeleteFine writing here.
ReplyDelete.. 'She allowed herself the full smile' ... and well she should.
ReplyDeleteYour painting of this lovely, lonely widow is perfect, and I sit on the side lines hoping, she doesn't hesitate for even a moment! I enjoyed your lovely, smooth writing!
ReplyDeleteLovely. Dare I suggest "Fifty Shades Of Charcoal" as a working title.
ReplyDeleteAn air of quiet desperation!
ReplyDeleteYou make her very human and very believable. k.
ReplyDeletePS - my first comment was eaten and when I wrote again it was abbreviated. I meant to add - well done! k.
ReplyDeleteI think we've all been there, when we find ourselves immersed in a dismal situation that we can't cleanly excise ourselves from. I could almost feel the frustration here. And smell the smoke. Brilliant.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading this :)
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful beginning to a longer story...It certainly brings one to life to be noticed...appreciated... Great work!
ReplyDeleteA lady in contemplation,so much to think about and so much to desire.It can lead to a lot of new discoveries. Nice write Little Nell!
ReplyDeleteHank
Terrific capture!
ReplyDeleteI love how fluently your words flow through this prose, Little Nell. The situation you present is so vivid and fresh. Thank you for sharing your multifaceted talent for writing here each week. I look forward to visiting. =D
ReplyDeleteThat was touching. Here's hoping she had other 'sittings' too!
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