When morning arrived, he showered, dressed, and took his painting to the bustling streets of New York to market it to every gallery house he knew. This is what he usually does when he has no interviews to attend. After all of his sweet talk to persuade people to buy his art, things ended up the same way they always do.It is either they are not interested or they say they will call him if they need one, but the funniest part is that none of these people have called back. In the past ten years he has been selling his art; he can count how many times he is sold one of them.
Weariness and hunger gripped him as he walked by the side of the road with his painting. When he noticed a chair nearby, he hurried to take a seat. His stomach began to rumble after he sat for a while staring at a bystander. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few dollars, enough to get him home but not enough to eat, but he was starving and needed food to do other things. Upon checking his watch, he realized that it was past five of the clock in the evening, but he had not eaten since the morning. Without considering how he would get home if he spent the money on food, he hurried to the closest restaurant and ordered a hamburger and fries. As he sat down to eat, he noticed a group of people yelling at a woman who was dirty and dressed almost like rags. He could bet that her skin had not felt water in years. He watched as they pushed her away.
He felt sorry for the woman, but it was none of his business. He noticed that as she sat on the floor, she was pushed to sit ,she stare at people with no emotion on her face; in fact, she appeared to be someone who was not simply humiliated. He suspected she was mentally ill, but when he saw a man in a suit ordering her out, he stood up and approached them. After greeting the man who introduced himself as the restaurant's manager, he inquired if anything was wrong. The manager informed him that he was asking the woman to leave, but she had refused. Trevor glanced at the woman who seemed to be completely unaware of what they were saying, but to his surprise, she was stunning and Asian-looking. She could be Chinese, Vietnamese, or that Asian subgroup that looks like Chinese. He took her away after apologizing on her behalf and asking her to wait while he gets his dinner and paintings.
He returned to find her still waiting for him after gathering his belongings. She grabbed his half-eaten burger as soon as he handed it to her and began eating as if she had not eaten in days. When she nearly choked, he gave her water, then gave her the change left over from the food he had purchased and left. He walked back home, despite the fact that it took him hours. When he eventually got home, he took a shower and painted until he was exhausted, but he was too hungry to take his medication, so he lay down to sleep.
He went out the following day to sell his painting, but to his surprise, he had only gone a short distance when two people came up to him and purchased it. He was surprised and speechless when they paid him more than he had asked for. He felt as if he was dreaming because no one had bought his two paintings per day since he started selling them! Two of his paintings were sold today, just a short distance from his house. Normally, if someone purchases one of his paintings today, it will be another month or year before someone else buys from him. He stared up into the sky for a while before looking down because he was unable to put into words how he was feeling. He returned home, took two of his paintings, and checked to see if they could be sold again. He walked around this time, not hopelessly, but joyfully. Even though he did not sell any more of his paintings, the proceeds from the ones he did sell earlier would have been exactly the same if he had sold four or five. As he walked around holding his painting, he felt content. He entered every business place he never thought he would enter because of how inferior he has come to feel about his paintings. Even though they did not purchase anything from him, the fact that they asked him to give them his business cards and praised his skills gave him the impression that his bad luck was over. When was the last time he received genuine praise for his work from someone other than Sister Agnes? It's has been a long time. He prayed that the day would never end and that it would continue forever.
When it was dusk he went grocery shopping ,then called a cab to take him home. When he got home, he paid the cab and went inside. He was going to cook himself a real dinner tonight, rather than eating the junk food he eats because he does not have enough money to cook a nice meal for himself. After he finished making dinner, he sat down to eat and then called his sister Agnes to see how she was doing. After that, he began painting, expressing his gratitude for the day with his artwork until he realized he had drawn himself. The background and the fact that he actually drew a man smiling while holding a sketch board in both hands while in the streets told him it was him, even though the drawing's facial features do not resemble him at all. He then took his medication and knelt beside his bed to pray. Today, he has something to pray about and something to be grateful for. He felt fulfilled ,happy.....oh he couldn't explain how he was feeling. He went to sleep hoping for the first time that tomorrow would be better.