“A little water never hurt anybody.”
The Wicked Witch Of The West* #quote
Don't you ever get cravings for some pineapple right-side-up cake? Anyway onto the flash fiction!
The Painter Of The Envied
Clemont worked as a painter. A difficult thing to make a living at. He did so not by making art that hung galleries and creating a name for himself. None of his art came from his imagination. Every piece he did was commission.
He painted families in the most high quality he could, which proved to be a very high quality that wowed his customers and made him recommended to others. He worked for the upper class, though the time it took him to make his work forced his income to make him middle class during his best years.
His work took him to homes filled with wealth far beyond his grasp. Large, happy, smiling families that were photographed with an incredibly expensive camera(which also cut into his living expenses, as well as other things needed for the shoot) to make a reference picture. The reference picture would be used for the long time it would take him to make a painting. Along with the wealth, Clemont also didn't have a family of his own. Distant from most of it, and as he aged many died.
Yet despite all that envy did not consume Clemont's soul. He looked out his window to see the bright sun, and read books by it just fine, or just as easily by the lamp by his bedside. A walk through the park to get a breath of fresh air out of his studio and sit on his couch to watch television.
Clemont lived happily no matter who surrounded him.