Bored In Class, A Student’s Risky Public Pleasure

His skills were extra-ordinary, even a student like me could see that. Porn I could have gone further. Never did I get used to his compliments, nor did I forget a single one of the tips he gave me. “Noëlle…” Mr. Their stories never added up. “I do not think we have met, madam,” he said, a pondering look on his face. At some point, I even began to suspect the universe playing tricks on me. Monet wanted to say something, but I acted more quickly. And that he did. If someone like him wanted me to model, who was I to decline that offer? That reputation was a wild one. I walked towards him, around the easel, and looked at his work. We talked about his drawings and paintings for almost an hour – or he talked, and I listened. The expression on my face must have been an odd one, because he laughed when he saw me looking at him. I stuttered my name. Monet. For twenty minutes I stood there, following the movement of his arm with my eyes. It was always too beautiful, too romantic,