Having never done a one subject show, Shaka felt like a novice but his spirit knew it was right. Since meeting and falling for Abasha Celine six months earlier she was all he painted. It was if he wanted to realize her over and over again. There were eight paintings and they were of parts of her. One canvas was of her eyes, there was another of her mouth, there was one he would never show and it was of where her thighs met; that place that brought him so much pleasure and from where he wanted his child to spring. He felt like a novice because she hadn't seen the paintings. He painted late into the night while she slept or the nights she insisted on sleeping in her own place. He hated that but understood her reticence. He wasn't trying to rush her but he wanted her in his space every night. He started pacing as he did when thinking. The ringing doorbell startled him. Naked, he made his way to answer it. He knew it was his love. Opening the door, he stood behind it. Walking in, she glanced around. Kicking the door shut, he stepped out in all his ebony glory. Giggles erupted from her throat. Mock horror covered his face. "Woman, do not laugh at him, he's very sensitive to ridicule." Dropping to her knees...