Free Love Is a Breeze by Sarah Purcell

and shivered.
    “You must be chilly,” John rose and extended his hand to assist her. “I’ll clear the dishes. I’ll give you a tour of the condo if you’re feeling up to it.”
    “I’d like that.”
    John gathered the dinnerware and took it to the kitchen. Brianna hobbled after him. She leaned heavily on her cane as she watched him. When he’d finished, he gestured for her to lead the way through a doorway between the peninsula and the door to the terrace. He offered his hand as she negotiated the step down from the black marble tile to the silver plush carpet of the large sunken room that served as both living room and dining room.
    “Did you take these photos?” She said, pointing to a group of black and white photographs on the wall opposite the fireplace. “They’re quite good.”
    “I did, thank you. That’s about the only thing I had to do with this room.”
    Brianna looked at him quizzically.
    He continued past the teak dining table surrounded by six straight backed chairs covered in dove gray fabric.
    “I had a party a couple of years ago. Kaitlyn gave me her decorator’s number. Apparently my condo wasn’t up to her standards.”
    “These glass sculptures are colorful.” Brianna ran a finger over the artwork on the lighted shelves that flanked the white marble fireplace.
    John picked up a blue vase, reminiscent of waves.
    “This is the only piece I picked out. I bought it at a little gallery in Hawaii.”
    “It’s beautiful,” she said. It was the only piece she really liked.
    She glanced at the large painting above the mantel.
    “I’m not a big fan of modern art but it does add color to the room.” John said. “I have to wonder what they were thinking when they painted it.”
    “I imagine they were feeling more that thinking.”
    John studied the painting and stroked his chin. “Okay. What was he feeling?”
    “Modern art is very subjective, much more so than other paintings like a landscape or still-life. It invokes different feelings in different people. This one makes me feel the artist’s anger.”
    “Really? How so?”
    “His liberal use of bold red slashes– red always seems angry– at least to me. The purple lines are a transition to the blue. The purple represents confusion and the blue denotes peace. He used much more purple than blue so, I’m guessing he was more confused than at peace when he painted this.” She smiled up at John who appeared to be interested so she continued. “He used a small sunburst of yellow in that corner probably representing hope. To me he was angry but wanted peace and he had a small ray of hope so all was not lost.”
    “You got all that from this?” He swept his hand in front of the painting.
    “Or, it could be that he just liked bold colors or was higher that a kite.” She grinned.
    John laughed.
    They passed the long and sleek charcoal ultra suede sofa flanked by four white chairs. Glass topped teak tables with contemporary brushed stainless lamps completed the room. An entire wall of floor to ceiling windows with access to the terrace framed the dining area. John pressed a button on the wall. Silver silk draperies slowly moved across the windows obscuring the sparkling lake.
    They continued into the den where the décor was a dramatic contrast to the living room. Walnut paneling covered the walls. Book shelves lined the end wall and another long one, broken up by an antique credenza. A large seascape hung above it.
    Brianna ran a hand lightly over the frame of the painting.
    “I love Winslow Homer. This is an original, isn’t it?”
    John nodded. “My great-grandfather bought it shortly after the Civil War before Homer became famous.” He picked up a remote control and pushed a button. A large, flat screen television descended from the ceiling in front of the painting. He opened drawers that housed numerous DVD’s and showed her how to use the player and sound system. “That should keep you entertained while you’re