The Painter

I knew it was going to be a struggle the moment I walked up. I only wanted to help the struggling painter, but he would never listen. I wanted to help get his work into a gallery, into a fair, or just somewhere but the sidewalk where his talent would be noticed for what it was worth. But each time I was met with the same answer: he was better off on his own than with a boss. One day I hope I can talk more sense into my brother. More sense to know not everyone is our father. 

More Friday Fictioneers stories here

Photo prompt courtesy of Brenda Cox. 


10 responses to “The Painter”

  1. I can clearly see this older brother, filled with truly good hopes for his talented brother, saying, “But I just want what’s best for you!” The problem there is the assumption that the younger brother doesn’t know what’s best for himself, and that the older brother has to guide the younger. Leave him alone. When he wants your help, he’ll tell you.


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