Excursion Into Philosophy  [edit by K+S] / 1959 /  Edward Hopper

Excursion Into Philosophy [edit by K+S] / 1959 / Edward Hopper

Preface

If you ask me who the greatest writer of the 20th century was I would probably say Edward Hopper. If a picture is worth a thousand words. Then a Hopper painting is a novel. Anyways, just a little quick piece I did from my first take on the painting. It’s fiction, but as with everything of mine there is autobiography littered thru it. I had a friend that was found by their parent in a different city. —Aaron


 

The sun broke the hill as it rose in the east.

He got there as fast as he could.  He had tracked her from Memphis to Nashville then across the Kentucky state line to a cheap motel at the foot of the hills.

The sun spilled across the room he found her in.  She was laying on a bed.  Her face to the wall.  She was dressed only in a shirt.  Her diary laid open beside her.

The air in the room was stale.  The open window brought in the feint smell of summer grass.  The contrasting smells made him feel uncomfortable.  He sat down next to her.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.  He already knew.  He wondered how he would break it to her mother.

Without looking, his hand slid over to the diary, resting on it for a good moment before finally reading it.

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He placed the diary back on the bed and stared out the window.

And he sang.

When the shadows of this life have gone,
I’ll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,
I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away)…

He sat there like that, next to her on the edge of the bed.

Time passed.

The sun was warm that day.


Author's note

The song was one my grandmother sang. She passed from complications of diabetes and cirrhosis due to untreated benzodiazepine addiction (Xanax). She was a wonderful Southern Baptist woman. No one knew she had an addiction until it was too late. 

Prescription pills kill too. Don’t let a doctor's note fool you into thinking you are immune to addiction. 


 

About the Author

Aaron Lee

Aaron, after 18 years "out there," is now in recovery from alcohol and opiates. He is an aspiring artist and a writer who is currently working on a novel of lost little things, writing poetry when it decides to randomly spill out, illustrating and writing a children’s book about forgotten fairy tales and gods and most importantly, he's raising his son as a single father.

Check out Aaron's site, SOBrSOLDIER. for details about his writing, art and charity work. Or find him on Twitter: @thewastedpoet