The Woman in the Portrait

On a trip to Venice at the ship port, the captain called upon all aboard! Passengers and their luggage rushed in, just like the tidal waves that hit the metallic surface of the gigantic Marshall LS-4 and back into the sea. I saw a few soldiers from the Italian army with the national flag stitched to the left of their green-brown check shirts, a few couples, both newlyweds probably here for their honeymoon, the oldies, and finally, a bunch of screaming kids. 

My gaze fell on a man in his worst attire. He was disabled, seemed buried in rags for months, and bit his nails out of hunger. None were bothered to give him a penny. I got up and walked towards him; for once, the earth lost its gravity. It seemed like I got dragged as his eyes fell on mine. I was hypnotized, I must say, and taken away by his grin. 

He seemed to be a poor man, but I saw something behind the twinkle in his eyes. Was it fear?

I dug my hands into my pockets, wishing I had something there because I'm always broke, and this time the man was lucky. I opened my fingers, and there! 50 cents! I handed it over to him. The man kept staring, so I smiled, dropped the coin, and walked away. 

Hey boy! Why don't you take something in return? He called. 

I was astonished, though, feeling stupid. Wasn't he a beggar? How foolish can I be? How could I even judge a person by his attire? I thought. I wanted to apologize. 

He broke my words in thoughts and said, "here's what I've got for you. Take it" 

My eyes rolled down to take a glimpse of a Portrait. I saw the same sparkling eyes that I saw in him. "It's the portrait of Queen Lisa painted in her memory by her lover Michael a renowned sculptor. This is the only picture of hers that has ever existed," he quoted. 

Oh yes! This painting, I've read about this. In fact, the original portrait of the monarchs in the national museum of Italy was stolen a few years ago. I reflected. 

"This portrait is worth it, son! Today is your day. Now take it." He said delightfully. 

I was a coin collector by hobby, but this seemed something of my interest too, so rewriting my fate, I took it from him with a sigh. But deep inside, I wondered why someone would want to give it away for free. Above all, how did he get his hands on this masterpiece? Wait, is this even the original portrait? I pondered. 

I boarded the ship, not realizing that my thoughts were unraveling a mystery. 

Back on the other shore, I got into my flat and smacked the door behind me to look at my priced possession. I opened the covers to see...nothing! Nothing at all!! Empty, just an empty frame. I fell for a stupid prank and realized I was a fool. I stood there and said to myself, after all, it was 50 cents. 

Later that night, I lay on my bed, rewinding all the incidents that passed by. Unable to forget those sparkling eyes in the portrait reflecting back and forth caused pain in my lower brain. 

Right then, I heard a noise from the kitchen. 

Oh my! Not that stupid black cat again!! I walked towards the open windows that shuddered due to the evening storm. My heart sank when I saw what I saw. 

It was neither the fat black cat nor the roaring storm. Two sparkling eyes out from my window staring at me. It was the woman from the portrait. 

..........................................................................................................................................................................

"Raymond?? Raymond!!" shouted my mom. 

I opened my eyes to realize that it was all a dream. The clock struck 7 in the morning. My curtains fluttered, letting the sun creep in. 

"Raymond, wake up!!" 

"Yes, mom, I'm coming," and I ran downstairs 

"What is it, mom?" I yawned. 

Guess what I've got here?? 

Two tickets to Venice!!