Prompt: don’t think your life didn’t matter

Finian looked up at the framed painting with wide eyes. He’d never seen anything like it before. It was strange and, somehow, wonderful. “Da,” he called in the sort of whisper that only a five year old could manage. “What’s it s’pposed ta be?”

His father smiled and looked at the card beside it. “Step back a bit,” he said, crouching beside Finian. He pointed and said, “Imagine this black bar as the railing of a ship. What do you see now?”

“It’s a sunrise!” Finian said, a hint of awe in his tone. “There’s the water and an island!” He looked up at his father. “Da! Could I paint like that some day?”

“Finny,” his father said, “you can do anything you set your mind to.”


Ezra startled out of his memories and smiled faintly at Morgan. “Sorry,” he said. “I was just remembering the first time I saw this piece. I was with my father.”

Morgan smiled and took his hand. “It had a big impact on your life, didn’t he?” she said.

Nodding, Ezra said, “He… still inspires me.” A faint smile touched his lips and he said, “I imagine, sometimes, looking down on me and… I think, he’d be pleased with the path I’m on now.” Chuckling, he drew her back and pointed out the railing of the ship on which he had sailed into the world of his own imagination.

A couple author’s notes: Just to remind you, Ezra was called Finian as a child.
Also, the painting used in this story was “inspired” by one at the Empire State Plaza. If you enter the concourse level from Madison Avenue, it’s on the back wall, on the right side, of that first room.


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