Mr Pneumonia Short Story

December 17th, 1899 – exactly seven years since Mr. Pneumonia touched the life of Johnsy. Mr. Pneumonia’s icy cold hands no longer affected the people of Greenwich Village. As he walked along the streets, no one seemed to care. He walked briskly passing a squatty flat on the corner of 6th avenue; this small flat was the studio of one of Mr. Pneumonia’s survivors – Johnsy.

“Well this is it, Sudie.” said Johnsy, as she drew out a deep breath and picked up the last of her bags.

Johnsy, now after seven years, was no longer “little” Johnsy. She had regained all of her strength and ate the amount a normal 31 year old would. As for Sue, she remained the same, small, responsible, and caring friend.

“I can’t believe we are doing this, Johnsy.
It was another three-story apartment with colorful plaster covering the exterior. Each window trim was intricately designed out of stone. As they hiked up the old stairs, a man passed them. He stopped and said hello in the most peculiar accent. Sue said hello and continued up the stairs, but Johnsy stopped and stared. The man’s accent confused her. It was one very strange, but also quite familiar to her. Johnsy sighed, turned and persisted to march up the stairway after Sue. After one week, Sue and Johnsy finally finished(Alliteration) settling in to their new home. Johnsy decided it was time to prepare for the biggest painting of her life. She gathered the many paints she owned, all of the paintbrushes she had acquired over the years, and rummaged through her many canvases to find the perfect size. Carefully and in order, she packed them into her enormous paint bag. The following day Johnsy and Sue carried nothing but the massive paint bag, and hiked to discover the best view of the Bay of Naples.
Several hours past, then suddenly Johnsy halted. She gazed around and then a vibrant smile covered her face. She looked at
As Johnsy waited near her display, many people passed, stared, and complemented her on her work. She responded with a smile and a genuine “thank you”. Then a man walking by stopped and gazed at the magnificent beauty, Johnsy noticed that his eyes were drawn to a tree on the side of the bay. On the tree grew a single and strand of ivy and one leaf. The last leaf. The man looked up at Johnsy and stared for a second. Then Johnsy realized, this was the man who kindly greeted her and Sue in the apartment. The man’s mouth opened and he viewed the painting again. Then he spoke in the peculiar, what seemed to be Dutch,