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STUDENT'S CORNER: Homework

“Beep beep, Beep beep, Beep beep” *

“Hey! Psst…! Listen to me! I’m here, in the photograph of the “Artistic Section” twelve page left upper margin. My dear fellow, I’m Mark. Erm…, don’t you recognize me?”

It was unbelievable, I had the feeling that I continued dreaming, but as a matter of fact, there was Mark with his usual stupid appearance that characterized him – I’ve known him since I was a child and I’ve never had been fond of him! -. I didn’t know what to do, that fellow continued shouting at me and I only looked at all directions trying to find a reasonable solution (explanation). I felt ridiculous when I asked a newspaper photograph: “What on earth are you doing there?”

His answer was amazing: “Well, I’m paying a call”.

My confusion became bigger every moment. My friend was in the photograph of a painting of my last exhibition.

“For heaven’s sake, how have you achieved to get into my painting?”, I asked.

He answered calmly: “Hmmm… Well, I’m very interested in your work and when I saw your name in the newspaper, I started to read the article to know if the critiques were bad or exceptionally good. Erm, little by little the words became more and more little, and I came up to the newspaper, when suddenly I was caught in it without being able to come out and waiting desperately for that you reached this page. But, although I feel fine, I can travel free by bus, I listen to talks without being seen… I’m afraid of finishing up in a rubbish bin or at the bonfire of some tramp, and therefore I want to come out”.

When he finished talking, I stared at the photograph at the same time that the worry, which was written across my face, changed into a satisfaction look. “Hmmm… Yeah! At last I will be able to get rid of this bore boring guy. I’m tired of him”, I thought.

Nevertheless, Mark hastened to add: “Look out! Before you act you should think about the possible consequences. Well, firstly, you will become a murderer. I know now you don’t worry about that because until now you haven’t assassinated anybody, but I also know you have committed some villainous deed as…”.

“Oh, that is nonsense!”, I said quickly. I was losing my patience.
“It isn’t. It’s a great truth. I’m fed up with yours lies. You plagiarized a friend of yours’ painting, an unknown painter, who continues living in misery while you have won fame. Secondly, erm, you will make away with one of your paintings and it won’t be an ordinary painting but your favourite, the one that has received the best critiques, and according to what I've read in this article, the most expensive painting of a living artist”.

My gaiety vanished. “What do you mean by that?”, I asked with faltering voice.

Mark, with his typical irony answered: “Exactly what I have said. Poor thing! ... If something happened to the newspaper, you would kill your better work and me … Hmmm, Oh! by the way, sincerely your painting is very good, although I’m very surprised you were able to paint it. It would be a pity something happened to it, wouldn’t it?”

My confusion was on increase. Everything was too absurd and I wasn’t able to distinguish reality from fantasy. But, “Oh, my God!... Why can’t absurdity become reality?”

When I was a child I believed and I was fascinated by hard-working elves who lived under mushrooms, so I didn’t want to miss the opportunity of returning to the wonderful children’s world and I decided to follow his directions in order to release him from such an unbelievable captivity.

He said I had to come into the newspaper editorial office and try to develop the photograph in which was my painting was so that the fool of Mark, who had done my painting his home as the bizarre fancy takes “his/my” imagination, should could go out.

I came into the photograph laboratory… I gave me myself a pinch because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, lots of elves laboured amongst films and developers. My dog, called Zipi, said told them, “Make it snappy! Your work is very important! My master has to achieve it!!!” One of the elves turned round to look and winked at me. “Don’t worry!”, they said to me in unison…

“Beep beep, Beep beep, Beep beep…*”, my alarm clock rang and as every morning I switched it off. I tried resigned to return to the alive world when I saw hung “my painting” hanging up on the wall of my room in front of me and then I realized that all had been a dream.

I sat up in bed and when I took one cigarette I saw a note under the pack of cigarettes that said: “Thanks for setting me free. Mark”.

Note 1. * Characteristic sound given out by electronic alarm clock.
Note 2. All characters appeared and situations related in this story are fictitious, whatever similarity may exist with reality will be a pure coincidence.

Congratulations Mayte!! this is a very interesting composition and really exciting to read. I've crossed out the mistakes and marked in red the corrections. Thanks a lot for posting up your story onto the blog.

Regards

Miguel