Each wednesday morning I go to the park to draw the sunrise. The park is located at the perfect spot for this. The sunset peeks through the middle of two trees, illuminating their leaves. I leave my jacket on its hook as I walk out the door, enjoying the warm breeze that lingers from the warm summer nights in texas.

I am quite impressed with this weeks drawing, those internet classes must really be helping. Getting ready to leave, I start to pack up my kit and push off the swing with the perfect view, when I stop. A man is approaching me. A man I did not see earlier. His pace is off beat with a slight limp. A slight panic sets in as I realize we are alone and he is coming even closer.

“Very good. You got the shape of the tree correct this week.” He says as he sits on the swing next to me.

“Excuse me?” I reply.

He is facing away from me and I cannot seem to make out his features. A slight sweat is growing on my forehead from anticipation.

“Your drawing,” he points to my sketch bag, “You are a quick learner. I am very impressed.”

I have no words. How could he have seen my drawing, let alone know about previous ones? Why wont he show his face?

“Don’t worry, I am just trying to help. I am sorry you do not recognize me, I cannot give too much away. Just remember you are making great progress and you are a great artist.”

The swing next to me is now empty as he limps away and yells, “You might find more help in your attic!”

“What do you mean my attic!?” I yell back, searching for his silhouette in the soft sunlight, but he is gone. Vanished.

WHAT JUST HAPPENED! How did he know about my drawing and my attic and..........oh my lord. My next door neighbor used to be an artist he had a limp from being in the war when he was young. He gave me a box of art supplies and notes and books that I put in my attic before he.........before he died.