The Vanishing Face
Short Story
by Stephen Collicoat
A young painter accepts a commission to paint the portrait of a society
hostess.
He knows that if he succeeds in producing a pleasing portrait, her
husband - a brutal and successful businessman - has the contacts and wealth
to secure the painter's future career.
The painter commences, and after some hours of feverish work, pauses.
He compares his painting with the face of his sitter.
The painter shakes his head in frustration. This will never do. The
portrait depicts a hideous crone, while the woman patiently sitting
opposite is still in her thirties and is very beautiful.
Careful to hide his annoyance, the painter takes his pallet knife and
begins lifting away layers of paint, wiping the mess onto a rag and
scrubbing the picture back to bare canvas. Only the mouth, ears, nostrils
and general shape of the head seem right. He keeps these, while gouging
out the eyes, removing the cheeks, and most of the nose and chin.
Finally, he is ready to commence.
He looks up from his work and sees, with horror, that the face of the
seated woman has been scraped back to her skull.
The mouth in the formless mask opens to complain, 'Can't you turn on a
light? It's so dark, I can't see a thing.'
The painter returns to his work, frantically trying to recall exactly
what she looked like. His life is now at risk. He needs time, but
already his sitter is complaining that she'll have to leave the studio, as
the air is so stifling, she can hardly breathe.
The Vanishing Face© COPYRIGHT 2004 Stephen Collicoat. Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author. 05/27/04
