Blindfold Drawing Novels & Stories

Desperation was making the girl foolish; drinking unverified herbal draughts could kill both her and the child. Martha reached into the dark shelves and pulled out a small, unlabeled vial of obsidian glass. She turned back to Seraphina, her face drawn tight with grave severity. "This is a potent scent-masking draught," Martha said, holding the vial just out of reach. "It will dull your scent and protect you for a short time, but it comes at a price. It is harsh, and it will weaken you." Seraphina reached out with trembling fingers, her eyes fixed on the dark glass. "I'll take it. I have to."

We tried that technique a few more times but she provided the same results. “Magnifico!” I exclaimed. “You can take off the blindfold now,” she took it off and blinked a couple of times to refocus her eyes. “Next, I want you to try and get around the course in the next room without being heard,” she swallowed hard. “Have faith in yourself. You just need to try,” I smiled at her. I put the blindfold on myself and turned my back to her. “Whenever you are ready, dear,” I prompted. Nothing, no sounds, not even the sound of breathing. Less than 3 minutes later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. “I’m done,” she sounded so pleased with herself.

I grab the smaller brush, preparing to do his eyes. As my hand reaches up to remove his blindfold, I whisper, “Don’t open your eyes”. I lift it, his eyes staying shut. I slowly stroke the brush across his eye, watching as they flash open, his hands pulling down and ripping the chains from the ceiling.

A painting hangs beside his desk. I don’t know why it draws me in, but I find myself walking closer. Thick strokes of midnight blue and charcoal gray layer the canvas. In the center — barely visible unless you truly look — a thin streak of gold cuts through the darkness. Not bright. Not loud. Just there. A quiet fracture of light. It isn’t something you glance at. It’s something you feel. My fingers almost lift to touch the textured paint. Why would a blind man choose something so visual?

The drawings were all created using pencils, and one of them depicted a naked woman. The thought of how many naked women Jared had drawn crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. The drawing was truly beautiful. The lines and curves of the woman's body were perfectly executed, making it seem as if I were looking at a real person instead of a drawing. "This is amazing, Jared," I said, not just trying to be polite, but genuinely impressed. Jared brushed off my compliment and continued to flip through the pages, showing me more drawings of naked women. I noticed that their faces were purposely blurred out, and I couldn't help but ask.

“Well, Elena, I was very stressed at this time in my life as well… war is a very terrifying prospect. Here, look.” King Harvey traces the outline of the shield with one taloned finger, and I watch as a small red flame blooms across the outline. He does it so effortlessly. “King Harvey, is it this simple?” “Focus on tracing it with your finger, Elena.” King Harvey replies firmly. “You will get it. The point of this exercise is for you to learn to draw, then you will imagine whatever you would like to summon in your mind, so you can then create it.” He tilts the notepad in my direction, and I take it, sitting next to him so closely that our shoulders touch. At the sensation of our shoulders to

“Draw me.” Goldie looks at Darryl and takes the pencil. He moves the tip of the pencil on the paper and begins to scribble a couple of circles and lines. Darryl watches him with intent, The drawing highlighted some of his facial features more than the others, almost like in a cartoonish style. “Good,” Darryl nods at him, “Now, draw what they did to you in Bilibid. Did they torture you? Blackmail? Kidnapped? ”

She pressed my hands to my sides and guided me to sit on my hands. “You do this pretty well…had a bit of practice, have we?” I asked. “Perhaps…” Carol giggled and then I was sitting along on the sofa. I heard Debbie giggle too and the two resumed their giggling fit, I presume seeing me blindfolded at their feet. “I guess there’s more to you than I knew, eh babe?” “I guess so…so here’s the deal…one of us will touch you or you touch us, and you have to guess who it is. If you guess right, one point for you. If you guess wrong, one for us. First to seven wins. Ok?”

he concurred. "Now let's see which will go first. We have Tease, the one on the red blindfold; we have Barely, the one on the orange blindfold; then we have Minimum, the one on the green blindfold; then we have Maximum, the one on the white blindfold; and then we have Perk, the one on the yellow blindfold. Each of them will go according to the level, and each person would have only five minutes with you. I gasped. "Now, put on your mask, lose the blindfold for the first one's eyes, and then he will take it from there."

Smoke. The image appeared without context, more feeling than memory. Loud noises. Someone shouting. A sense of waiting. He blinked, confused. The feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. Later that afternoon, the class participated in an art exercise. “Draw a place that feels important to you,” Mrs. Calder instructed. Crayons scattered across tables as children began sketching houses, parks, and pets. Silas stared at the blank paper longer than anyone else. Then he began drawing carefully.