Practice does make perfect… He thought to himself.
Sitting on his stool, he knew it was time to take a break. Of course, he still saw imperfections here and there. Some of his brush strokes were a little clumsy, but he had spent so much time in front of the canvas that trying to correct them would only result in more obvious weaknesses in the whole picture. On top of that, paint just had a mind of its own, and the flaws might not look so bad once dried up.
He leaned back, cleaning his brushes and drying them with his multicolored stained cloth.
Starting that painting hobby was one of the best ideas he had had in years. It had seemed foolish at first, not being quite the artistic type, but he did have a lot of free time on his hands. And, as he had discovered after a couple of disastrous attempts, it was the best way to re-visit these magical times of his past.
He remembered vividly all the scenes he had portrayed over the past couple of years. That moment, when he had flashed on a lovely silhouette, a particular way of walking, a smile, sometimes. All of the women now displayed on his walls had a little je ne sais quoi, that had given him that forbidden feeling…
Hey, Afremov! Time to shower! Show me your wrists!
The guard’s voice shook him off from his rêverie.
Such a shame he had let Umbrella Girl go….
P.S. Just to clarify things, I don’t intend to even suggest that Leonid Afremov (real painter) is or could be a serial killer 😉 I just used the signature on the painting to make sense in this short piece of fiction.