Oil & Latex on Board
16 x 16 in
Every morning was the same routine in the Village. The baker cooled baked goods on her windowsills, dock workers wandered back toward the docks for a day at Sea, and the village tart strolled down Main Street over a small country road and into the woods.
No matter the weather, the tart took this daily walk over the same small road. Wives would stand in their doorways or whisper above the rim of their coffee cups as she walked past. Beautiful and buxom, the tart was the envy of all the women in the village. They all suspected their husbands of cheating with her, although none had ever been caught. The stigma followed her to every shop and cafe in the village. The tart never let on that it bothered her, because she had a secret.
In fact, she was not “The Other Woman”, and she never had been. She would walk through the woods for a mile or so to meet her lover (who was the talk of his own village, but that’s another story). Conversely, all the husbands believed their wives to be cheating on them with him. Although they had never been caught. The pair met in a meadow they favored. A passionate embrace, and talk of philosophical ideas was usually the norm as they watched the clouds drift in peace. They wanted to marry but each of them knew the other's family would disapprove. Until a solution was found they would meet in this meadow.
On her way back through town one day, one of the village wives snickered as she swept her porch, catching the eye of the elderly gentleman who sat on a bench nearby. "Why does she walk that way everyday?" the wife queried. After a moment, he chuckled, "One can make such assumptions in youth! Maybe you should be asking, “Why is it she crossed that road, and what – or who - exactly is on the other side?"