Adventures Drawing Novels & Stories

A piece of paper fluttered out. It was a drawing. Crayons on construction paper. Catherine picked it up, and her blood ran cold. The drawing showed two stick figures standing on a jagged white line (the ice). One was labelled "Daddy," drawn in blue. The other was labelled "Sad Man," drawn in red. They were fighting. But above them, the sky was ripped open. A black hole was drawn in the clouds. And coming out of the hole wasn't light. It was a tentacle. A massive, black, spiraling limb covered in eyes.

Today is a Christmas party in her school and also her school vacation starts from today. “Mammy, I have made this,” She said, giving me her drawing card. “Why this card,” I asked. “Maestro asked us to make a family diagram and the best drawing will take place on a Christmas tree,” She said happily, showing the picture. I opened the card and saw her amazing painting. She has different levels of craze for painting. She has drawn me in the center beside a shadow, and I know what it means. She draws herself to the right side of the shadow, interlocking fingers with him and another side, Jonathan sitting in a wheelchair.

When she wrestled the bag around to the front, she unzipped it and triumphantly pulled out a rather rumpled looking piece of paper. Alice looked at the drawing and this time, a single tear escaped. It trickled down her cheek before she swiped it away with the back of her hand. “Adam, look,” she said, her voice choked. “It’s us.” I took the sheet of paper. It showed a family grouping drawn in colored crayon. A stick man, a stick woman with a chaotic corona of hair holding a bundle, and a little stick child standing in front. The child had a big smiley face.

she stated. “I thought so, too,” he shook his head as he waited for Izzy to get into the passenger’s side seat of the car and close the door behind her. Then Owen walked around to have his seat behind the wheel. “What do you have in mind? I mean, how do you want to spend the getaway?” Asked Owen. “Since it’s almost summer, let’s try swimming at a place nearby for anything fun. I wanted to try Airsoft games or hunt with a real hunting rifle, but I didn’t have anyone to drag with me. I don’t even know where to go,” she frowned in disappointment.

Kathy Adams agreed, scrambling to the small end table and opening a drawer and getting the K-Y jelly. When she turned around, she was greeted by the site of Kelly on her knees in front of her brother, sucking his cock, and Becky on her knees sucking her husband's cock. It was a sight that swelled her with happiness, especially seeing Kelly sucking her own brother's cock. What an incredible child, she thought, not for the first time. It's a shame that Sara's not a bit more like her, she mused.

Beside the paper and pen lay a thin box with a set of graphic pencils. A drawing kit? I opened the pad immediately and began to draw, the dream pouring through me like water down a cliff. It was vivid and fast, my fingers moving on instinct and guided by the memory that wad etched into my mind. The dizzying swirl of numbers, the images in the holographic screens, the massive glowing codes. I drew it as perfectly as I could, adding the faces of my children. After several minutes, I felt no more inspiration coming, so I sat back and stared at the sketch. My fingers had gone sore, my breathing a bit shallow.

Jordan sat stiffly trying to maintain a straight face while the tiny girl draw him, he knew it was a recipe for disaster the moment he suggested it but there’s nothing wrong with letting her get the joy of drawing her famous director daddy. He was trying hard not to smile as she scrunched up her face and two colors were sticking out of her mouth, she was sketching furiously on the large sketch pad that has housed over hundred caricature drawings of both him, Amelia, and other nursing staff. Sometimes, the plants make it there or the lovely animals she met on her way back from a walk. It was June’s Guinness book of painted treasures and she and Amelia spent days trying to come up with the nam

Adrian would throw a tantrum if he saw me in this position, so I stood and leaned against the door. He nodded enthusiastically. “This one has more details.” I took the drawing from him, my chest tightening in the softest way. It was another image of us again. Four figures this time. Adrian, me, Ollie… and a slightly bigger circle where the baby was. There were tiny lines now, little attempts at arms and legs. “It’s growing,” he explained seriously, pointing at the paper in my grip. “So I made it bigger.” “That’s very accurate,” I say, my voice gentler than I expect.

*Aria's POV* By noon, the bakery slowed down. Adrian sat drawing in his sketchbook at one of the tables, tongue poking out in concentration. He looked peaceful. Safe. "Mommy," he asked suddenly, "can we get hot chocolate later?" "Yes," I said, brushing his curls. "After your nap." He smiled proudly, holding up his drawing. It was of a goat. With very sharp horns. "Very intimidating," I told him. He giggled and went back to coloring.

Adrian hesitated before answering. “Because sometimes adults make complicated decisions.” My child thought about that. “Do you still know how to come here?” “Yes,” he said gently. “I do.” They nodded. “That’s good.” Another small silence passed. Then my child held up their drawing from school. “Look! I made a rocket.” Adrian leaned closer to the screen. “That’s amazing.” “You like it?” “I love it.” My child smiled proudly. “I made it in art class.” “You’re very talented.”