Votre sélection :
man in profile, looking to his left. He is wearing sunglasses and has short hair. His attire includes a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a black tie. In his mouth, he is holding what appears to be a cigarette, which suggests he might be smoking. The background is minimalistic, focusing the viewer's attention on him. There are no texts visible in the image. The style of the painting is realistic with a focus on detail, particularly evident in the man's hair and clothing. It was a chilly autumn evening when Jack stepped out of his worn leather jacket and into the dimly lit café. He took a seat at the bar, surveying the space as if searching for someone – or something.
Jack's eyes scanned the room, lingering on each patron before moving on to the next. His gaze danced across the faces of strangers, taking in every detail: the nervous fidgeting of the college student sipping on a coffee, the confident swagger of the businessman on his phone, and the quiet contemplation of the artist sketching by the window.
As he scanned the room, Jack's eyes seemed to focus on one person – a woman sitting at a small table in the corner. Her dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, and her expressive green eyes sparkled as she laughed with someone across from her. Jack's gaze lingered on her for a moment before moving on, but his profile remained fixed to the left, his sunglasses casting a shadow over his features.
Jack took a seat at the bar next to him and signaled the bartender for a drink. He lit a cigarette, feeling the familiar sensation of nicotine coursing through his veins as he inhaled deeply. The smoke swirled around him, veiling his face and adding an air of mystery to his already enigmatic presence.
As he smoked, Jack's thoughts wandered back to the woman at the small table. Who was she? What brought her to this café, on this autumn evening? Was she a friend, or a stranger, drawn in by some unseen force?
The bartender handed Jack a whiskey, and he took a sip, his eyes never leaving the woman across from him. The smoke from his cigarette curled around the glass, creating a misty veil that obscured his features further.
For a moment, it seemed as though time had slowed down, and all that existed was Jack, the woman, and the dimly lit café. The world outside receded, and the only sound was the soft hum of conversation and the gentle sizzle of cigarettes on the bar.
And then, just as suddenly, the spell was broken. The woman looked up from her conversation, caught Jack's gaze, and smiled. The connection was palpable, a spark that bridged the distance between them and set their hearts racing with anticipation.
As Jack finished his drink and tossed a few coins onto the bar, he raised an eyebrow and smiled to himself. He knew that he had just glimpsed something special – a moment of connection that would linger long after he left this café behind.