Nothing is Priceless!

"The picture is going to sell" he said to himself and she loved him for it. The two of them were walking by it. It was priced at over two thousand dollars. The Gallery was going to take its share, the print was expensive but, the work was out. "Your first piece!" she said energetically. She was being sweet. "Baby about that fight, I was thinking about it" he stood facing  her, eery eyed, and melancholy, "I got the job at the Safeway!" He laughed, "I'll be able to pay the rent, because at this point I haven't eaten in a week" he said sourly, but with an encouraging smile. "You're gonna work at the grocery store?" She asked him, upright and stone cold. "Well" he responded, "It's been in the window a week!" he looked down and patted his stomach, "I'm actually hungry" he said looking back up at her. "I don't believe it" she smirked, irresponsibly, wearing her new coat  and earrings, sparkling, "You can't" she laughed beautifully, swelling with a rapture like presence. "You'll be poor!" she said. Turning his head away, smiling at the ground he said  "I already am." She stayed there thinking things through, trying to make sense of the dream she sought out with him. He no longer fit, Safeway was not an acceptable solution for them, for her father, for her, or for him she thought. "Baby you're an artist!" she said holding her hat tight over a strong wind. Exposing her manicured hands, he could see her whole arm, she was wearing a sleeveless lace blouse, her nails were painted pink. But it was windy, he could only see himself losing her, furthering himself form what they once were. He wanted them to still see the same picture in that window. The store front, she saw herself in, her portrait staring back at her priced. The sun was falling, and the cars were beginning to stir heavy with Friday night traffic. People were filling the streets to party, and the two of them were standing still, looking at their work together, for sale in a window. "It's worth way more then two and a half grand isn't it baby" she asked him. He looked at her and said, "Baby me and you are one another when we're together, we're a joke that's not funny when we're apart. That picture I made of you, hanging, exposed for sale is" he stopped, stepping closer to the showcase, pressing his face against the glass, sad. She stared at him she thought that he always found himself in such awkward situation, it made her even more sure he wasn't one of the others as he pushed himself from the glass, leaving his own greasy face print smudged on the surface. They both looked through the stain of his face on the glass at the image thinking