The wind blowing over the grass carried the scent of lilacs.
"The lady in the painting is an abstract concept," the painter said, catching his breath on a warm outcrop. "That's where the sentimental value or the supposed magic is."
'An abstract concept.'
Those words seemed to click something in Averie's mind.
Inspiration struck. It felt like all his questions were answered.
Finally, there was a clear image in his mind.
"She never shows her true inner self," the old man lamented. "She is magical because she is mysterious. If we take that away, we take away the myriad possibilities that the spectator may envision."
Averie remembered Celli.
When he first saw her, and until the day they met, he thought she could be his muse.
"Muse."
That word slipped past his lips naturally.
"It is not unlike what teenagers call love at first sight," the painter commented, his eyes turning slowly towards his guest. "Does that help?"
Averie nodded.
"It does help."
