*he talks to a phone; a woman wanting to know how the painting of her son an daughter-in-law’s wedding photograph is coming. he insists it’s almost done, yes, it will be done in time for Christmas and she doesn’t have to worry. he nods his head, mumbling things like ‘i understand’ and ‘of course’ before saying goodbye and hangs up*
…
*what was he doing? oh yes. admitting to liking a woman and being shot down entirely. he turns around to look at her and smiles faintly*
people get so crazy this time of year… they want their painting now, like, a day after they commission me.. *yes. topic change. good. safe.*
I can imagine. That’s why the people at the post office are so frazzled… *Her butterflies disappear and she feels lighter, realizing the call wasn’t going to pull him away. She didn’t understand the strange feeling and wrapped her arms around her stomach* People are just worried their gifts won’t arrive on time.
*Her eyes widen at the realization* Oh! I’m so sorry Jack, I’m keeping you from work, aren’t I?
uh? n-no you’re not…! i’ve got all my work caught up, really. i may get some last second things b-but i’m not a miracle worker… i can’t paint a whole photograph onto a canvas in a night, no matter how much these people think i can…
Jack Maple 