Modern Love Thing

It was storming in Baltimore, Maryland and rightfully so, this was expected and overdue. The sky was overcast with clouds as dark as the visions tormenting a scorned lover. As the clouds tore open and hail fell in shards of glass, he was born. In delivery, his mother, suffering from pain and pleasures, as expected in delivery, reached towards the sky. Grabbing an invisible, icy dagger, she carved into her sweaty womb the gift of surrealism and the heart of a brave warrior. Only then did she cry out in pain, sacrificing her comfort for his existence, for his destiny. From the moment, he was born, it was a festive day, it was the most festive day of the year. Not for one moment did anyone bother to complain about the weather, his existence was enough to heat the room. It would be a long time before he would be celebrated in such a way again, he would search for it, he would crave it, he would know it from seeing it, yet it eluded him. His name was Loren, his hands blessed by God and his mother herself, he painted all things beautiful, all things grey and elusive. Mixing colors and dreams and expectations as if he yielded a wand. Loren was brilliant but he was distraught for he didn't know from which he came. His mother loved him, reminding him constantly that his gifts were his hands. She urged him to forget formal celebration and to polish his crafts. Still, this did nothing to sate his appetites for that which was given to him the moment he was born. At 16 , Loren decided he no longer could be satisfied with just his existence, that he would never see the colors in his visions until he could touch that which escaped him. Packing a bag and bidding his mother farewell, he headed South towards Florida, expecting to find love and happiness, a nice home and walls to fill with paint. That, unfortunately, was years to come.

Arriving in Orlando, Loren struggled to grasp the concept of warmth surrounding him. Stepping off the plane into sunlight, shielding his eyes from a bluer sky than one he'd imagined, he was optimistic. For the first time in a long time, his 16 years didn't feel like 60. He could feel his youth coursing through his veins and he said a quick prayer for prosperity. Gathering his luggage from baggage claim, he checked his watch.