Note: for this story I used Elton John's longer version of "The Circle of Life" from the LION KING soundtrack.
Nick glared, disgusted, at his unfinished painting. It had started out well, but he had lost his direction and he didn't seem headed anywhere. With a low growl of frustration, he examined what he had s o far.
He had begun with a brilliant sapphire at the top and gradually darkened it until it had become pure black at the base. Then, for contrast, he had added spots of white of varying shapes, starting with broad, amorphous blobs and working his wa y down to minute speckles.
Now he stared at it in consternation, unable to decide where to take it. The painting needed a focus, of that he was certain, something to draw the eye and hold it long enough for the meaning to be glimpsed. The problem w as that he had not yet ascertained the meaning himself, and so had no idea what would properly convey the feelings he poured onto the canvas.
"You're too close," came a voice from behind him. "Take a step back for a while. Give yourself a chance to see the big picture."
He glanced over his shoulder at Natalie. She had insisted upon watching him paint, despite his protests. "The big picture?"
She shrugged. "Or whatever you want to call it. You know. Life, the universe, everything..."
"That 's big all right." He regarded the painting once again. "I suppose that's what art is about, in a way. Trying to squeeze the big picture, as you say it, into something you can hang above the fireplace."
"So what part of your life are you squeezing t his time?" She went over and curled up on the couch, awaiting his response.
"Shouldn't that be unlife?"
"Come now, Nick," she scolded. "Don't be like that. Positive thinking, remember?" He grimaced. "Besides, even if you have to be that literal, you were mortal once. You can paint about those experiences, too."
"I suppose..." His eyes glazed over as he thought back, memory crossing the centuries. A vague smile lit his face. "I recall the sunlight. I would run out on a summer day, t he world so bright I had to blink. I wanted to see everything. Do everything." He shook his head slightly and returned to the present. "Little did I know the penalty for fulfilling that dream."
Natalie snorted. "Oh, please. You can't possibly have s een and done everything, no matter how long you've lived. That's the great thing about life. No one person can see or do it all. This is a wonderful, ever-changing world we're in, with all kinds of variety."
"Wonderful?" He cleaned off his brush wi th strong, fierce movements. "How can any world with creatures of my kind be considered wonderful?"
She rolled her eyes. He was in one of his moods again. At least this time he seemed willing to talk about it, and perhaps even release some of his a nger onto the canvas. She decided to prod him a bit further. "Don't tell me. Vampires are responsible for the downfalls of society?"
He shot her an irritated frown. "That's not what I meant. We're so separate from it all, removed from the consequenc es of our actions. Rewarded, even."
"Rewarded? In what way?"
"We're predators. We murder humans in cold blood. We take and take, never giving anything in return. And yet we receive powers of which humans can only dream!" He punctuated his speech with broad sweeps of the now clean brush through the air. "We soar among the stars, leaving mortals behind, clinging to the earth. Nothing affects us. No matter what troubles befall us, we shrug them off and go sailing on our merry way. Even physical wounds heal without a trace, while mortals must carry their scars their entire lives."
"Life's not fair, Nick." She looked down at her hands. She had twisted them together in her lap without noticing. With an effort, she untangled them and forced t hem to relax. She had said that phrase so often when her brother was dying that the words couldn't help but bring back the memory. "Life isn't fair," she repeated, "and it never will be. It's a game of chance, and we can't know what will turn up next on the wheel of fortune, but we have to muddle on with the faith that everything has its place."
"The big picture again?"
"Exactly."
"But what if I'm not a part of that picture?"
Natalie realized that he had just touched on the core of what d isturbed him most about this whole conversation. He felt like an outsider. She wasn't quite certain how to reassure him, but she had to say something. "Well, I'm a live-and-let-live kind of person myself, but I have to admit I'm a predator every time I snack on a hamburger. Sure, there's a difference of degree, but as I see it there is plenty of room for predators in the grand scheme of things. We'd be in a heap of trouble, otherwise."
He still didn't seem convinced. "That's true for mortals, but ..."
She hopped off the couch, snatched the brush from him, and waved it in his face. "Now look here, mister, don't you go getting up on your high horse. If I opened those shades right now we'd see just how mortal you are. The sun rolling through the sky up there keeps you mighty vampires on the same cycle of life and death as the rest of us."
He stared at her wordlessly. Finally she sighed and tucked the brush back in his hand. "Never mind. Go back to snarling at your painting. I'm sure that will do as much good for you as I could."
"Nat, wait." He ran his free hand through his golden hair. "You're right." He turned to the painting, comprehension dawning on his face. "Night...day...it's all part of the same circle. They blend into each other and you can't separate one from the other."
She studied the colors, truly seeing them for the first time. Why hadn't it been apparent before? She should have been able to recognize a depiction of the sky. "Uh, yeah," she temporized. "Of course I'm right." She patted him on the shoulder.
"Thank you." He broke into a wide, boyish grin. "I really mean that. At first I didn't want you to watch, because I thought you might be distracting, but I know now that I would have been stuck without you."
"I guess that, even after eight hundred years, you find out something new every day."