The birch chair is still in place.
The easel hasn’t moved in decades—
an unfinished painting that looks as if it might be completed any day.
On the opposite wall, another unfinished blue figure reaching behind his head, in joy? Pain? On a dark brown board.
Light comes through the same window.
Soft, white, reflecting off the walls.
The sea just beyond it—quiet, steady.
The view that inspired his famous painting, Persistence of Memory.
The air carries a faint mix of salt and dryness. Stone, dust, old wood.
Nothing has been disturbed.
Nothing has been finished.
