The Death of Anna Barcello

[BookBeauty]

Anna Barcello had been found with her body in spread-eagle position on the floor. Her bare form, in the prime of youth, had been painted with the utmost care.

It was done in oil paints, with colours that I never knew existed. They blurred and shimmered together, covering every surface of her skin. They were vivid, and lifelike, burning into my memory. Only her face and hair were untouched. Honey-brown eyes were lifted and frozen in place, a small smile on her thin, colourless lips.

Anna was a human canvas. The recreation that stretched across her torso, over her shoulders and down her legs, was The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo. Her figure depicted life itself. The fingers of Adam, longing, and reaching towards his Creator's, as God's hand struck that first spark of life, caused me to close my eyes and bow my head. A stinging sensation flooded my throat and nose. Unbidden tears bled from my eyes.

I had never been a religious man. I had seen the Sistine Chapel, and it had not awakened in me any sense of reverence. I could appreciate the artwork. But, this... This was so startling, so careful and real, that it took my breath away. Seeing so much death, you become desensitized. Even people who never see it, see it everyday on the television. You're not supposed to feel awe. You're not supposed to be happy, or to feel a sense of wonderment.

I've seen my fair share of horrific deaths, but this wasn't one of those. It was in a class all by itself. I couldn't bring myself to tear away.

Anna had been famous as the artist who would sell you your very own colour. The only price had been an oath of secrecy. No one knew why her customers never revealed their colour. One such customer, Theodore Smith, was a notorious lady's man.

Narcissistic and childish, he swore to a small crowd of onlookers that he'd take the oath in pretense. They watched his tell-tale, cocky grin as he strode, chest puffed out with testosterone-driven bravado, into Anna's domain. There were many who were afraid of the painter. They would not dare visit.

Instead, they all flocked around her door whenever she had a customer. Ears were pressed eagerly to the wood, hoping to catch something of the mystery without being directly exposed to it. But, not a word, or a scuffle was heard from behind the threshold. Theodore emerged hours later.

A face once flushed with youthful arrogance had been stripped away to ash, his eyes haunted, lips tight and sombre. His voice had sunk a few octaves lower, along with his shoulders. He had been a lawyer. Those who knew him well said that he quit his job, and took up fly-fishing. It had been a sport which he claimed to have hated prior to receiving his colour, but was actually a secret, shameful passion. He had been humbled by whatever he had seen in Anna's small apartment.

But, not all of her customers had left her apartment as Theodore had.

Some, after their consultation, ran out with tears of joy streaming down their cheeks, embracing anyone in the vicinity. Still others would come stomping out in torrential rage. More still would reappear grief-stricken and horrified. The truth was that not one single person that left her chamber remained the same. Every individual had a completely unique reaction to this mystery, and all were transformed in some way or another.

Her fame soon spread, and nobles, and even royalty would seek out their colour. It began innocently enough.

But soon there were protests.

One group demanded that she put away her paint brushes and stop selling her colours forever. These protestors usually had someone close to them that had seen their colour, and had decided to pursue a life's passion, or do something impulsive, bold or unrealistic. Still others protested those protesters, exclaiming that it was an artist's right to have creative freedom. Both sides wanted to know what the secret was.

Even the authorities became involved, when the matter began to leak into the local politics. Politicians that had seen their colour would sometimes pass their torches to begin a career in golfing, or giving away their campaign money to charity. Some would even go so far as to plan a journey to less fortunate countries, where they could give out food and spread the knowledge of medicine directly.

The uproar had reached its peak when Anna would take no more customers. Her door became locked and barred. There was outrage, sadness, and bitterness. Some even felt triumph and elation. Rumours went adrift that she was afraid for her life. Many had been seen banging uselessly upon her door, desperate for an answer only she could give them.

As the days progressed and still Anna wouldn't open her door, the people drifted away. Weeks slipped by, and even her most passionate protestors returned to their daily lives. But, the question of her secret was still on the lips of everyone who had never had their visit.

When her monthly rent was due, it was her landlord that opened the door with his key, and found her.

The police were called. I was the first to arrive on the scene. And, gazing intently upon the dead, and beautiful body of Anna Barcello, I realized she had broken her own oath. She had revealed the secret of the colours she had so passionately sold. The colour she had given each person had been the same.

It was the colour of death.

[Steven Hunley]

I like the writing in this but I enjoyed the concept even more. Someone who has a strange power being popular and then misunderstood and finally turned out. Good stuff.

[BookBeauty]

Thank you so much, Steven Hunley! I'm just so unbelievably proud of this piece, I had to share it. I was worried that the concepts might be misunderstood, and so glad you enjoyed them.

This is the result from breaking my writer's block of 8 years. Finally, a completed work. A finished idea. I am elated!

I had actually originally considered sending this in for April's short story competition, but since it's the first that I've finished in a very long time, I thought that I would benefit more from constructive feedback. :)

[AuntShecky]

The well-known film reviewing duo of years past --Siskel and Ebert--used to remark that the best movies, even those set in a bygone era, reflected the society in which they were created. In subtle ways the microcosm of the characters responded to the larger world--for example, both the novel and film adaptation of The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

In a way, your story does this as it is set against a contemporary backdrop of
rampant superficiality, expressed by body piercing, unnecessary plastic surgeries, tattoos and in this case, body painting. It doesn't matter that the subject of the body painting is religious
(unlike say, Groucho's "Lydia the Tattooed Lady) --as a matter of fact, that makes it even worse. By the way, just a few short months ago the New York tabloids featured photos of artists and their nude models in full-body paint parading around Manhattan, some of whom were actually arrested, if you can believe that. Your story takes it a little further by showing the body-painted model as a murder(?) victim. It doesn't take a quantum leap to see the larger theme-- superficiality equals death, right? Or am I wrong?

So the choice of topic and theme in this story --your first in 8 years!-- is quite good. What needs work is the execution.

The writing style is a bit choppy, with far too many paragraphs that are only one sentence long. It's okay to use a one-sentence paragraph, but only sparingly, for dramatic emphasis.

You could build up the drama, to a climax of discovering Anna's body nearer to the conclusion. The story sort of gives it all away when it's mentioned so soon. Take a tip from Homer--start "in medias res."

Abnother way of dramatizing is by dialogue. For instance, the beginning could be discovering the body, having him call the authorities, what the authorities say when they get there, etc. (I don't mean follow the "Law & Order" formula, but dialogue would make your piece look less flat and Matter-of-fact reportage.) By the bye, who actually discovered the body? In the beginning we get the impression the narrator found Anna, then later we're told it was the landlord. (?)

Maybe your could start it with a scene protesting the artist, which we're "told" about but never "shown." Or show a scene with her offering exactly what she can do a "customer" (an odd choice, makes her sound like a hooker.) Again, use dialogue instead of straight narration.

Finally, despite the fact that your chief character is inanimate, you can liven this up by using active, rather than passive, verbs.

Good effort after a long hiatus.

[BookBeauty]

The well-known film reviewing duo of years past --Siskel and Ebert--used to remark that the best movies, even those set in a bygone era, reflected the society in which they were created. In subtle ways the microcosm of the characters responded to the larger world--for example, both the novel and film adaptation of The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

In a way, your story does this as it is set against a contemporary backdrop of
rampant superficiality, expressed by body piercing, unnecessary plastic surgeries, tattoos and in this case, body painting. It doesn't matter that the subject of the body painting is religious
(unlike say, Groucho's "Lydia the Tattooed Lady) --as a matter of fact, that makes it even worse. By the way, just a few short months ago the New York tabloids featured photos of artists and their nude models in full-body paint parading around Manhattan, some of whom were actually arrested, if you can believe that. Your story takes it a little further by showing the body-painted model as a murder(?) victim. It doesn't take a quantum leap to see the larger theme-- superficiality equals death, right? Or am I wrong?

So the choice of topic and theme in this story --your first in 8 years!-- is quite good. What needs work is the execution.

The writing style is a bit choppy, with far too many paragraphs that are only one sentence long. It's okay to use a one-sentence paragraph, but only sparingly, for dramatic emphasis.

You could build up the drama, to a climax of discovering Anna's body nearer to the conclusion. The story sort of gives it all away when it's mentioned so soon. Take a tip from Homer--start "in medias res."

Abnother way of dramatizing is by dialogue. For instance, the beginning could be discovering the body, having him call the authorities, what the authorities say when they get there, etc. (I don't mean follow the "Law & Order" formula, but dialogue would make your piece look less flat and Matter-of-fact reportage.) By the bye, who actually discovered the body? In the beginning we get the impression the narrator found Anna, then later we're told it was the landlord. (?)

Maybe your could start it with a scene protesting the artist, which we're "told" about but never "shown." Or show a scene with her offering exactly what she can do a "customer" (an odd choice, makes her sound like a hooker.) Again, use dialogue instead of straight narration.

Finally, despite the fact that your chief character is inanimate, you can liven this up by using active, rather than passive, verbs.

Good effort after a long hiatus.

Thank you, AuntShecky, for helping a blind writer to see what's missing. :)

I'm going to edit my piece, making it less vague, adding more active voice, and maybe rearrange the story and pull it into a direction with less narration... Once I've taken a breather and let it air out a bit. Give it some space, so to speak.

In any case, I whole-heartedly agree with your sentiment about the execution of this work.

I would like to clarify a few things.

It was never mentioned in the story directly, but Anna's death was not a murder. It was a suicide. I understand it can be pretty difficult to paint something backwards on oneself, so maybe it diminishes the believability.

I'm not entirely sure what you mean by 'superficiality and death,'... I did mean for this piece to be symbolic, and to represent different things for different people, though, so... Well, anyway. Anna wasn't a model, she was a painter, or an artist.

The main theme of the story... Maybe it's been overdone, but, oftentimes, when someone finds out that they are about to die, or someone very close to them dies, they look at life in an entirely different way. Some people take up a 'bucket list', some people get mopey, etc. This is why Anna's 'customers' each responded differently to 'the colour of death'.

The religious subject of the painting in the beginning bears no real significance, except to show that she can paint incredibly. :D

I love the idea of starting the story with protests, or at least to show people actively protesting, so I will leap onto that as soon as I come back to this.

I suppose this short story is a bit strange. It's not really my style. I put myself at a distance from it, because maybe I'm afraid of messing up. Or maybe it's because I was inspired by the short story, 'Two Words' by Isabel Allende. :)

Coincidentally, the last 'sort of' finished story I wrote was an assignment, that is, to take on the style of that author. I don't think that I did it very well back then, but I think this is truer to it. Maybe this was a way to prove that I could do it.

A large part of me worries that I have no other stories to write, because I'll be too afraid to write them my way. But this is still something I'm proud of. I'm hoping that it's a way to launch back into writing, which I've missed. I've had so many ideas that have gone only halfway.

I did edit and make less spacing in the paragraphs. I think I went a bit overboard, my insecurity of the readability of it. Anyway, a thousand thanks to you once again!

[Neilson Black]

Ah an artist's story. These are always interesting reads, they're everywhere, but always pleasurable when you come across them. Your's was too, dark ending which made it different. Your writing in the earlier paragraphys stood out for me. As high as they come really.