Rewriting My Heart's Fate

The owner of the art gallery smiled and looked at me kindly. Then, as he shared heartfeltly about the past, I learned about the truth.

My mother and Mr. Reuben Fraser, who was the owner of this art gallery, knew each other from that serene little town. They were not just neighbors, but they played an important role in each other's life growing up. Mr. Fraser was passionate about art from a very young age, whereas my mother had a magical touch where she could transform emotions into beautiful, scenic art pieces.

Their friendship had transformed into a very close bond of mutual understanding and rapport over the passage of time.

"Hilda's talents were a gift from the heavens. Her art wasn't just a combination of lines and colors, but also a true reflection of what she was feeling inside."

Mr. Fraser's words were filled with nothing but admiration and fond remembrance of my mother's talents, but I sensed that there was something more to that.

"She once told me that every piece of her art was a love letter she had left to the world, hoping that someone else would understand the story beyond her art."

I stood quietly in front of Town in Morning Glow and through her art, I could almost feel the serenity and warmth my mother was feeling at that time.

Tears blurred my vision once more, but this time, it was from how moved and liberated I felt.

we're both from a small town and had tried our very best to get to where we were

by this. However, after looking at the adoration in his eyes, I could tell

was very talented and capable.

other person lived a wonderful life, instead of obstructing their path to

we've left our village, we all had

me by surprise was that Mr. Fraser had gone with others

opened an art gallery right away because he knew that my mother wasn't able to

merely wanted to

issues, so he used all he could, even if it may not be much,

the happiest time of my life. Later on, I

as he sunk into

intricately designed wooden box from his desk, and placed it gently in front

was the last thing Hilda left with me. She said that if you'd ever

tone, as if the thing he had passed to me was not just a box, but a vesse that carried