...she was not that enigmatic. I simply looked in my mirror, at myself, after she left the daily sittings, and quickly painted.
It was not her smile.
It was my own, a smirk of satisfaction. I found I could make her to my liking.
Nonetheless, her husband purchased the painting, small as it was. His vision was not good. It worked out well for me.
I was deeply involved in many other diversions at the time. Many more important tasks.
L. da Vinci
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