Vignettes Regarding the Artwork of Brendon Kotes
“Was Casey ever charged in Dylan’s death?” asked Orion.
They lay closer now. Orion had slid over so that their lengths pressed against one another, his hand casually laying on Brendon’s hip. Brendon had turned, just a smidge, hoping to shift that hand closer to his crotch, hoping to restart where they’d been, wanting to get off the topic of Casey, of death, of his paintings making him some sort of villain.
“No, not that I remember,” said Brendon. “But he was blamed by the court of public opinion well enough.”
“And as far as you know, Casey and Dylan were the only two people in that garage when it happened.”
Brendon made an agreeing sound.
“Emma lives alone. Doesn’t have anyone else there when she visits that boat you painted for her. As does Jennifer Craugh and her forest filled with wolves. But little Diana, she has her parents there, though if they’d ever seen that panther come to life from your carousal painting, I doubt they believed it themselves.”
“What are you getting at?”
Orion squeezed Brendon’s hip. “Was wondering whether the paintings have limits to who can see. One, two people an acceptable amount, but more than that, like say, at a gallery, might be too much, too many.” Continue reading