[ WP ] An artist skilled in photorealism loses a loved one . He/she starts creating pictures of their late loved one , posts them onto social media and creates fake stories to give them context .

He is perfect. 
 
 Every sketched shadow and blurred line blends impeccably, each color chosen precisely. His portraits are indistinguishable from photographs. 
 
 The world knows his work, but nobody knows him. 
 
 He sits in his room, cramped, but hidden. Door locked, window barred, curtains drawn, canvas spread across the ground. 
 
 Pencil drags across paper, sketching an idea. He wraps his fingers around a brush, delicately, but with urgency. Colors bleed from its tip as it sweeps across the canvas, but the fifth attempt is no better than the fourth. He throws it into the corner with the others. 
 
 He sweeps aside discarded food containers and various emptied packages of art supplies. Bars of light from the window guide him to his next canvas. He checks his phone. 
 
 *Wonderful piece! Truly, a mirror up to nature! * 
 
 Messages on the blog. He posts his work. There ’ s not a person in the world who does n't believe he is painting reality. 
 
 He sits down, and begins again. Every curve has its place. It has to be exactly where it is supposed to be. The way it is in his mind. 
 
 Today, Michelle is walking her dog in the park. There are 3,872 blades of grass, and that ’ s where he must start. 
 Each blade of grass is its own portrait. Each one has to match exactly what he sees. It has to be flawless. 
 
 He layers the greens, and shades in the shadows that each blade of grass casts on the blade adjacent. They are immaculate. They match everyones reality. 
 
 Michelle walks her dog, and he walks beside her. As they walk, arm in arm, they idly converse about the full moon in a few nights, and how maybe they could go out for dinner that night, since it has been such a long time. 
 
 Finished. 
 
 This one is done, but it ’ s not enough. Life keeps going. Soon, the full moon will come, and they have to make dinner. 
 
 He sets his current project aside. It ’ s time for a new canvas. 
 He looks up at his other projects. He sees it all in his mind, and then again with his eyes. A thousand portraits of Michelle. 
 
 *'' As long as she is around'' * he tells himself 
 
 *'' I am perfect. `` * 

