An Enigmatic Smile

by John Riley

“It is quiet.
“It’s what they’re like, ain’t it museums?
“Quiet? D’yur not think?
“I’d thought they were no one here. I’ve seen the odd person out of the corner of my eye, wandering around the place.
“Hey! Come here, this is familiar.
“Ha-ha, there’s a lot of stuff in here that I know about.
“What the…
“Look at that? I used to have one of those bikes. My dad used to say I’d get piles riding a seat that thin.”

“There’s all sorts of things in here. I had one of them as well. I suppose a lot of us did, my generation.
“Wow! Whoa! Never! No, it can’t be…
“Now, I didn’t expect to see that…HOW?
“How did that get in here?
“I painted that.
“Yeah really…
“Yeah, that’s right, I painted it.
“I can’t believe it…How did it get in here?
“No, really, that’s my painting. How can my painting end up in this museum?
“Freaking me out that…
“I know there are other paintings out there in the other rooms, but this one, I remember this one…I painted it…I wonder if the school passed these things over for some exhibition?
“It’ll be a long time ago, I suppose.
“Can you tell who it is?”

“You don’t say much, do you?
“It’s me! When a young boy.
“Aye, take my word for it, that’s me.”

“Well, I never…
“You know, I think I can remember when I painted it.
“I’m not so sure how it’s here in a place like this…
“In fact, not sure what happened to all my stuff when taken away.
“Ha-ha, you don’t expect to see a picture you’ve painted in a museum you happen to be visiting.
“Oh yeah, now I think about it, I remember being asked to paint. By a teacher, how we see life ahead of us.
“We were only young… I know we’d asked to paint a portrait of ourselves. “Then, fill it with things around us. Things that predict our life ahead.”

“Looking at it now, what do I see? A cloudy grey sky… and is that rain I’ve drawn? It all looks a bit dark. At least I look as if smiling amongst this gloom. Hah…I must have been in my black period.”

“Never really left me, if truth be known, early teenage angst, eh. Look at all this black and grey.
“Well, I like that the sun is peeping through over there in this bit…and I am smiling.
“Makes me sad looking at it so long ago. Did I really have that sort of vision for the future? It looks bleak. I’m so surprised to see it here.
“You know, the time I painted that and me as I am now, it seems a lot has happened…Yeah, a lot happened…
“Life did turn out like that picture…bleak…lonely, the sun never did shine. “If it did, I never noticed. No…I never noticed…Too long living through the rain.”

“I’ve realised why I’m here.”

“I took my own life, didn’t I?”

“This museum, this place, I’m here to reflect on my life…A life taken before its time.
“I’ve got to go back, haven’t I?
“Thought so…Face those storm clouds, and get through it. Have to allow the sun to shine.”

“How many times have I done it?”

“That’s a lot.”

“Are all these other rooms containing reminders of my other lives? Have I ever made it to old bones?”

“I thought so…
“I have to return and head back now?”

“I do miss home. When can I go back to source?”

-end-