by Ione Citrin

Artwork Description

Red Scarf

0.0 x 0.0

24" high x 20 1/2" wide oil on canvas The silk scarf was carelessly thrown across the chair. The elaborate arrangement of flowers, wilting by the minute, next to it. Dawn entering through the window. Everything beautiful, peaceful. None of this spoke of the tragedy which occurred in this very room. The tragedy of lost love and lost lives. One could only imagine what had occurred. Trudy was the only one who knew, and this would be her inheritance. Yes, the gossip in the neighborhood was plentiful. The streets reeked of the tale of lost lives and disappointment. Each neighbor had a different interpretation of the family who lived here and what actually happened. No one knew the real truth. Trudy knew, but she wasn't talking. Her memories gagged and suffocated her, but she would never spill. She softly walked to the front door of the house, not wanting to visit her past any more than necessary. The past would disintegrate as time went on, but would the horrible realization of what she had done to bring about this disaster ever vanish?

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