Canvases

The following is a sketch done in response to  a setting prompt.

The room was filled with canvases leaning against walls and balancing on easels; from white backgrounds, assembling faces peered out of a single eye or smelled the turpentine thick air with fleshless nostrils. The wood floors were stained into a Jackson-Pollock Twister mat; a paint brush, bristles encrusted with hard paint, pointed to cadmium red and stayed there. Walls of brick were painted white, but failed to reflect much of the yellow sunset coming through a three by two foot bared window. Despite the solid-looking walls, a roar of buses accelerating and voices traveling in rivers tumbled into the room, over the partial faces, and onto a stained blue suede couch in a corner with a thick wool blanket tossed on its seat. In front of the couch, an empty wine glass and partially eaten baguette teetered on a plywood tabletop with stacks of encyclopedia Britannica for legs. The sun set, the bare ventilation ducts on the ceiling rumbled periodically, and the moon tinted a single ear on a canvas blue.