Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Writing prompt: plot
"Your main character is a generous 25 year old man. The story begins in an art gallery. Someone is leaving prison after 20 years. The theme of the story is: family ties."

Alexander walked around the busy art gallery and stopped in front of one of the paintings. It struck a nerve in him and he racked his brain to remember where he had seen the image before.  He took a closer look at the signature. Of course! It had been on his mother's easel the day before his father was taken to court. He scowled at the painting and moved on. 
His mother had died almost half a year ago. He grimaced, remembering the gaudy cake she'd made him for his 25th birthday, then smiled as the image of her beaming face appeared in his mind. She'd been so proud of how it had turned out after spending hours trying to get the icing just right. He hadn't realized how sick she'd been then and wished he would've caught it sooner. Maybe then she would have lived to see her husband return from jail. 
Alex found himself standing in front of another one of her paintings. This one had been painted when he was 7. The sad drooping blue and purple tones of the picture made him wonder how his mother had really coped with his father being imprisoned. 
He turned away from this one as well and checked his watch. It was almost 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Soon he'd be picking up his father from the prison. Alex didn't know what he should've been feeling and had given up trying to sort through the bombardment of emotions the day kept throwing at him. Sad, because his mother had passed before seeing her husband. Angry, because he blamed his father partially for his mother's illness. Scared, because he hadn't seen his father face to face in 20 years. Happy, because he knew that his father had been innocent the entire time and was finally getting released. With all the different emotions building up, it was a wonder he'd even gotten out of bed that morning. 
He spotted one last painting that gave him even more kidded feelings. His mother had painted this one for his 18th birthday. City skylines had always been a calming picture for Alex and he'd often gone up the nearby mountain to watch the sun set across the city. His mother had accompanied him a few times and, although he hadn't realized it at the time, had painted the same city skyline he still gazed at on occasion. He couldn't afford the painting though and turned from it as well. 
On the way out, an older woman who worked there stopped him and quickly told him that she had noticed him appreciating the art and asked that if it wouldn't bother him, to please donate to the gallery as it didn't receive enough funding from the city to remain open much longer. Alex pulled out his wallet and handed the woman a few higher bills and thanked the woman for helping to keep the gallery open. She took both his hands and thanked him, then sent him on his way with a "God bless you". 
He wandered to his car and got in. Alex clenched his hands as he noticed that they were shaking slightly and started the trip to the prison. A few hours later, he pulled up at the gates of the prison and greeted the guard with a tentative smile. The guard let him through and he made his way inside to meet his father. 
His father was sitting patiently on one of the seats in the waiting area and stood up when he saw Alex. Alex stood still for a moment and then began walking slowly over to his father. His mind was running a million miles a minute while trying to think of what to say but his father didn't give him any time to speak before he was engulfed in his father's arms. Alex felt tears on his cheek and briefly wondered if they were his or his father's tears. His father pulled away and then took a deep breath. He regained his composure and picked up a small bag. Alex assumed it was what was left of his possessions and led him out of the building. 
When they got to Alex's home, his father sat in the car for a little bit before getting out. Alex had already gone to the door because something had caught his attention. A package was sitting on his doorstep. He took it inside and left the door open for his father. Alex carefully removed the heavy brown paper and his breath caught in his throat as tears threatened to spill once more. The last painting he had seen in the gallery was now in his lap. 
His father walked in the room and stopped at the sight of the painting. He hurried over and took the painting from Alex, propping it up on the mantle. He looked at Alex with a silent question to which Alex nodded. Alex noticed a small note in the package and opened it. 
"To the family of the artist who's heart keeps the gallery alive. May you find peace in her work and comfort from the message in her art. Thank you for your generous heart which reflects hers." Alex placed the note beside the painting and sat beside his father. He wasn't going to question how the woman knew he was the artist's son and silently thanked her for the comfort she'd given both him and his father.