Roan had a feeling Dylan was up to something. He just had no idea he’d spring it on him at the gallery.
Dyl had a two week showing at the Lohmann-Chang Gallery, a small but apparently super hip place in downtown Vancouver. It struck them both that Dylan was an odd choice for the showing at the middle and end of December, but since when did any hipster place have a sense of sentimentality? So Dylan’s paintings of bleeding machines, colorful, geometric abstracts, and isolated, painted body parts – all Roan’s, whether the viewer knew it or not – would be on display for the entire holiday season. Happy Hannukah, Christmas, and Kwanzaa, everyone.
But Roan was happy Dyl had gotten a solid foothold in the Vancouver art scene. Yeah, some people knew he was that “cat guy”’s husband, but there wasn’t much they could do about that. Roan had never been an art guy, and he still didn’t get much of it, but Dyl’s work always made him feel something. His work was always beautiful, even when it was bloody and strange. In fact, sometimes he liked them because they were bloody and strange. Dyl knew what he was getting into when he married him.
Read the rest of the flash fiction on Andrea's blog!