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    Nothings Fair

    Tina picked up a copy of the New York Times that was on the counter and flicked through the Art pages. It was then she saw it ‘GALLERY OPENING’ Tina read the article. The gallery was showing a group show for its opening. Tina read the name of the gallery and her heart hit her chest so hard ‘Porter New York’ She couldn’t believe it, could it be? She decided that she had go down and see if she could see the show. The opening had been the night before, so she’d not need an invite.

    Tina decided to change her clothes, she put on some leather pants she knew she looked good in, the fitted her shapely legs perfectly. She put on a pair of flat boots. she picked out a colourful shirt. Making sure her blonde, red hair was perfect. She picked up her purse and headed out the door.

    She caught a cab and arrived at the gallery, it was half four on a Saturday and it was still busy inside. She found herself biting her lower lip. It was a nervous habit that had got worse over the last few years. she stood outside of the gallery, which was in a modern building, with floor to ceiling windows. She could see the people milling around.

    It was then that she saw her, Tina’ breath caught in throat. She saw Bette Porter. She hadn’t seen her in seventeen years. yet there she was. Talking with her usual passion from her hand movements. Her dark hair pulled back, showing her perfect cheekbones. Her body was still slim, she was wearing a back top that showed off her toned arms, and a long skirt. Tina couldn’t take her eyes of her. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. That feeling of love, lust and need came back to her. hitting her fully in the chest. She found she could barely breath. Only one woman had ever brought out these feelings in her. No one had come close.

    Tina decided she had to take the plunge, she had to go inside. She slowly opened the door and the noise of the gallery hit her, the show must be poplar. She was drawn to some watercolours on the far wall she walked over, this area was quieter. She slowly got lost in the paintings. All the years of living with Bette had given her a love of art that she still had now. Her apartment walls were filled with expensive art she’d bought over the years since leaving LA.

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