The Painter (9)

“Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me. And believe me, when I say coming from you means so much more,” she said.

“I thought I was doing horribly, so I stopped painting for a while. I only began painting again when I came across your works in a gallery. I was in awe of hyperrealism. It was magnificent, and I knew I wanted to know how to paint like you,” she explained excitedly. “Meeting you here might be the best thing that has happened to me this year.”

It was Aston’s turn to feel flattered, and he did ever so much. He had received a lot of compliments, but in a weird way, Dorothy appreciating his art made him feel he did something for someone, and it made him feel good.

“I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from this class, and I can give you pointers if you want.”

“You know I didn’t exactly enroll for this class. Mrs. Michael is my aunt, and she just allows me to join in and last week was my second time here.”

“That makes sense. I didn’t think you paint. I though