She walked into to empty gallery carrying a bottle of red wine and two champagne glasses, one blue and one red. She was wearing a long strapless midnight blue dress made entirely out of satin. The dress was painted onto her body like soft skin on a woman. She was a vision. She sat down on the empty floor and filled the two glasses to the top. “Tonight we drink to you, Narissa. Teach me how to paint like you do, and I shall teach you how to make love like an African woman.”
She’d taken Mercy into her storeroom and showed her the faceless portraits she’d painted of one woman who couldn’t be tamed. They’d painted on empty canvasses with their bodies unclothed. They’d painted each other filled with desire, a painting that stood as the centre piece of this very exhibition tonight. Mercy was an untamed woman, much like the woman in her paintings, but those paintings couldn’t capture the way Mercy could devour her prey like an African lioness. Mercy was merciless, in her thoughts, her actions and her love making. She was a woman of strength, but she inflicted too much pain.
Their affair had been temporary; Mercy left her alone in the gallery that night, after having robbed her of all the dignity she had left.
