SPACE! The Gallery Show
(curated by the super popular bro, MIKE MITCHELL)
June 21st 7 – 10pm
@Gallery 1988 (west) in Los Angeles
This is my contribution. It is called simply “The Cosmos”.
Mr Alchemy also known as Albert Lecter~
I’ve never understood the name ‘Hannibal’ anyways.
…… ‘Mr. Alchemy‘
AnonymousHis blush started off faint, but boy, did it grow by the end of Al’s diagnosis.
“Well… I mean, I’d say I try, but I honestly just poke at him a lot.” He smiled back though, watching the creation process inquisitively. Hey, that looks like a thing he could do. He could so do that.
“Besides, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’d be fine, I’m sure, and if you really did need us, we’re both a phone call away.”
Albert smiled and offered up some fruit salad to the ginger, “I wouldn’t want to bother you on your vacation. It’s a shame we don’t have any pineapple or strawberry to go in this, it tastes better the more fruit there is.” But apples and bananas can do.
“I’m sure I’d be fine for a few weeks maybe- do you have anywhere in particular planned?”
… point.
He smiled though. “We’re doing great actually. Think he might be getting a bit stir crazy though, so maybe we’ll take a trip or something soon. Something different.”
“And leave me alone?” Albert laughed, “I don’t know how Len would fair without the two of you around to babysit me regularly.”
He chopped up the apples and bananas and began stirring them into the whip for the two of them, “I’m very happy for you both. I can see it in your eyes, how happy you make each other… I feel like James needed that especially.”
“I worry that sometimes he pretends to be happy so much that he forgets what it really feels like. I’m grateful you can give him that…”
“This is Your Brain on Music. Cliché, I know, but I’ve been enjoying it.”
A couple of awkward beats of silence, at least on Hartley’s part.
“Maybe you can go out with Len sometime to find some more books. He might enjoy it on a cooler day.”
“Perhaps another time - he doesn’t much like father’s day either, and it’s everywhere out there.” And of course he accidentally brings up the holiday,
“Anyways, tell me about how you and James are doing.”
“Then we don’t have to talk about it.” Apples are definitely a plus.
“In that case…
Reading any good books lately?”
“Yes, I- just finished a very in-depth Carl Sagan biography on my kindle. It’s by far the best I’ve encountered… I’m thinking of picking up a fantasy next.”
“You?”
He followed after, a short sigh managing to escape.
“To be fair… I’d never much cared for the holiday. I don’t have as much a connection to the date as you likely do.” He slid his hands into his pockets.
“It’s not self-pitying to admit it bothers you though, Al. It’s healthy.”
“It doesn’t feel healthy…” Al stuck his head in the fridge and pulled out a couple of apples, and a thing of whipped cream for fruit salad.
“I’d rather not talk about it though to be honest…”
“Most things are. If they were simply, I kinda doubt they’d be as much of a problem.”
He stepped in casting a look around the room. Well, things had definitely changed.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but you just didn’t sounds like being alone with the alcohol supplies of this place was a good idea.”
Al sighed and ran his hands down his face with a soft groan, “It’s just… father’s day. It’s a tough day for me - most holidays are.”
Just explain - rip it off like a band-aid so they can carry on with other topics - Al shrugged and turned back into the house, heading towards the kitchen for food, “I had an infant daughter who died of brain cancer - and my own father died long ago from radiation poisoning. It’s-” the doctor waved his hand, “Not that Father’s day is any better for you, I don’t mean to sound self-pitying.”
music-holic replied to your post: It didn’t take Hart that long to get his things together for a run over to the hideout. Even if he trusted Al (to a certain extent anyway), he didn’t trust all the residents of that particular building. Therefore, a few security flutes were basically a given. Sorry, Al, but if he sees Evan he’s not exactly going to be civil. Either way, he arrived at the doorstep and, after a quick listen to make sure said Scot wasn’t close enough to answer, knocked on the door.
“That obvious?” He smiled faintly. “I don’t care for… certain residents of this building. So, what’s up?”
“Nothing.” Which sounded stupid because there was most certainly something - else this meeting wouldn’t be taking place.
“Well - it’s -” Albert rubbed his hands down his face and stepped aside to let Hartley in, “It’s complicated.”
It didn't take Hart that long to get his things together for a run over to the hideout. Even if he trusted Al (to a certain extent anyway), he didn't trust all the residents of that particular building. Therefore, a few security flutes were basically a given. Sorry, Al, but if he sees Evan he's not exactly going to be civil. Either way, he arrived at the doorstep and, after a quick listen to make sure said Scot wasn't close enough to answer, knocked on the door.
Al flopped off the couch petulantly and didn’t particularly bother straightening out his clothes as he stumbled to the door. He was in a foul mood, and no amount of company was going to spurn him into making himself presentable. Luckily for Hartley, Al did manage to dress himself that morning - so clad in a Carl Sagan shirt and comfortable shorts he opened the door, “Nobody is home right now, if you’re worried.”
