Now that the time for recollections was over, it was time to continue from where we left off. The rock was resting next to an easel left behind by a demonic artist that the rock had fended off. Both the easel and the rock were on the riverbank. The same river that had brought the rock here. Downriver a bit was the now-finished bridge. Before, it was just something that brought more people along without much more meaning. Now, it evoked a sense of nostalgia.

Some time had passed since then. The occasional bird would come along and perch on the easel. These birds were aspiring artists and had quite a unique medium for their art. Originally, the art was an unfinished yet quite realistic rendition of the surroundings. Now, it had become more abstract with a focus on tone. Whites and the occasional black was added to it. The rock, unfortunately, was hit by a few stray “brush strokes.”

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Fortunately, it rained one day and washed the rock clean. The artwork wasn’t as lucky. Rain soaked through the paper and smudged the paints and other mediums. It became a mess. At this point, it was no longer art, it was modern art. As it dried, the paper shriveled up and got all wrinkly. There was no denying the fact that it was gone for good.

At least the easel itself was recoverable. If only the artist would come back, he’d be able to make a comeback with what’s leftover. However, it seemed he wouldn’t come back. Perhaps, he quit for good. Or he has spares somewhere and it wasn’t worth coming back. Even though he was labeled as evil, it would be interesting if he came back. If he does come back, hopefully, he would have learned that he shouldn’t have messed with the rock. However, such opportunities don’t last forever.