FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Good and Evil". That was the name of the painting right in front of me, the one that had caught, despite all my will, my disinterested and bored eye. Circled by colorful paintings full of pronounced contrasts and bright colors, this one was special by its lack of life, its overuse of different shades of gray and the undefined and blurry shapes in which one's eyes was instantly caught. A strange feeling was covering all my senses while looking at the artwork. I was feeling empty, as if my soul was far away from my body, as if I was able, in this little moment out of time, to understand all the feelings that the artist felt when he painted his masterpiece, without being able to help him in any way.

I stepped forward slowly, going through groups of loud tourists talking without even looking at the artworks or taking pictures of the paintings without really checking them. I raised my arm, slowly, reaching out to touch the frame as if, by this gesture, I could touch the painter's soul or even go back in time to watch him, fascinated, finish his masterpiece.

My claws clashed loudly against the cold and hostile glass wall protecting the beautiful paintings from dumb and careless people like me, and a shrill voice exploded a few centimeters away from my ears, delivering me from the frame's mysterious hold.

• "Hey! What are you still doing here? Move, if you don't want us to leave you there."

• "Ye-yeah, I'm coming..."

She was a young lioness from my group, with golden fur and blonde hair tied on both sides of her head, wearing round glasses and proudly wearing a large gap between her front teeth, that she never hesitated to show. Decidedly, she had strictly nothing seducing for any intelligent being. I didn't know her name. With a little regret and a last look for "Good and Evil", I followed her and joined the rest of the group, stopped a few dozen meters further, in front of a magnificent statue. Our guide, an old but healthy red panda, was telling, in a dull voice, maybe for the tenth time today, the story behind the creation of the statue. As far as I could understand, it was the story of an artist who was so perfectionist and rude that his model had died from dehydration, trying to keep his pose for too long. The artist then tied the dead body in place to finish the statue. I joined the group the best I could, while the lioness returned with her girl friends, who were obviously laughing at me. The guide finished his story and immediately started to walk straight to his next stop, without even leaving us enough time to watch and appreciate the statue.

Visiting an art museum with a guide, what a stupid idea... I didn't even have the time to really appreciate the artworks all around me. I didn't want to be here, but I had no choice. It was a mandatory exposition from my art history class. All the group would have to pass a test about it the following week. A boring test, from a boring class, given by a boring teacher who kept telling that art changed a lot through time but who did not let us think any different. A teacher who was imposing to his students the kind of activities I though I would never do again after high school.

I was tired, too tired. Since a couple of months, I had often been awake late at night, watching series and anime on Internet, trying to keep the twisted and eager fingers of insomnia away. They asked us to be in front of the doors of the University at seven in the morning for this activity. I wished I was not there.

The guide stopped in front of an enormous painting full of dark colors. It represented a young child, standing still on a sidewalk, in the center of a crowd that was apparently trying to avoid him, to walk away from him.

• "This frame," the guide said in his dead voice, "is called Solitude..."

• "It's a picture of Jason" interrupted a tall blue lizard with piercing silver eyes in a mocking tone.

The group laughed in unison, and some of the students even dared turning around to watch my reaction. I stayed silent, ignoring the lizard's mocking, while our guide was trying to take the group back to order. Reiks, this jerk, I knew him well. He was the kind of trouble maker that nobody had any hope for, but who miraculously reached higher studies. He was the kind of moron who was a master in the art of hurting others, but who had, in fact, way less valor in life than any of his targets. For as long as I could remember, I had always been his favorite target. What would be better for a junk like him than a talented young student preferring solitude rather than the company of dumb and dumber people? Someday, I would have my revenge on him, somehow.

When the group started to move out again, I stayed behind for an instant. I sighed slowly, bored by this never-ending shitty day. A paw smoothly touched my shoulder and I turned around, surprised by this intrusion in my personal space. Keith, a handsome dark gray and black wolf with beautiful gray eyes and a fluffy tail, was standing in front of me. I had never talked to him, but I knew we had some classes together. What did he want from me? Humiliate me even more?

• "How are you?" he said, wearing a truthfully sorry face.

• "Would you go well?"

• "Uh..."

• "Forget about it, Keith."

I joined the rest of the group and the wolf followed me, staring at the ground, noticeably deceived by this short conversation.