Cholo Clown Drawing Novels & Stories

And it was not. As I opened the door a little wider and stepped inside her room, I smiled widely and closed the door so that no one, especially grandma, could get in. The walls of Chloe's room are covered in drawings that have no apparent context. Several of them appear to be houses, people, and a lake. I've noticed that she frequently incorporates red, black, and blue into her artwork. Transparent drapes obscured two of the patterned windows in Chloe's room. This bright blue sofa, which has several kinds of teddy bears sitting on it, is located directly in front of all the windows.

He picked up the paper, and the anger turned into confusion as he looked at the messy drawing of caricatures on the paper. “Is this supposed to be a joke?” He asked, holding it up. “A stupid drawing?” He couldn’t control his anger. Autumn reached for it, and this time he gave it to her. She turned her back to him and looked at the drawing. At first, she was confused, but when she saw the middle stick figure holding what looked like the messy drawing of an ice cream, she understood what was in front of her. It had to be a drawing from Leo.

Everything I'd fought for. He looked up when I walked in. Didn't ask where I'd been. Just crossed to me, pulled me close. "You okay?" "I don't know." "Want to talk about it?" "Not yet." He nodded. Let me hold him a little longer. Clara looked up from her drawing. "Mama, look!" I crossed to her. She'd drawn three figures—tall, taller, small. Stick figures with big smiles and a sun in the corner. "Who's that?" I asked.

A minute later Keyla heard cupboard doors opening in the kitchen. Leo, at the table with paper and crayons, was drawing something he'd been working on since breakfast. Three figures in a house — the same round heads and stick bodies he always used, circles for heads, lines for bodies, and a square structure around them with a door. He'd labeled none of them, which was unusual; Usually there would already be letters beside each figure. Something seemed to occur to him. He switched crayons and went back to the drawing. Only then did Keyla look away from the contract. She leaned slightly toward the drawing. "Who's that?"

Lucas was on the floor by the radiator, shoving a wooden dolphin and a wooden whale into the same plastic tub with a focus that suggested a lot rode on the outcome. Chloe was at the counter with a piece of cardboard flattened in front of her, drawing something in pencil so hard her hand was white at the knuckles. Estelle was at the sink rinsing cups, the tap low. She had her hair up with a pen through it. I watched the back of her shoulders for a second, the way they moved when she rinsed, and then I looked back at the phone. “The whale goes in the deep-sea bin, Luc,” Chloe said without looking up.

The parents clapped. Chloe's project was a drawing of the community centre. Not the new one. The old one, before the collapse. She had drawn it from photographs Léo had shown her, the front entrance and the bench where the woman used to sit with her coffee. The bench was drawn in 4B so it was darker than the building around it. The woman was not in the drawing. She had thought about drawing the woman but she had not known what she looked like, only that she existed, and drawing someone you had never seen felt like making something up rather than drawing something real.

Chloe walked back to the nursery to fetch the boy. "Liam, dinner's ready. Did you finish your draw—" Her voice died in her throat. Chloe’s hands balled into trembling fists as she stared at the canvas. It wasn't a happy family portrait. It was a depiction of hell. In the center of the paper, Liam had drawn three figures, but they weren't people. Two of them were towering "monsters," and the third was a small, broken boy cowering in a dark corner. The first monster was a man with eyes the size of saucers, wearing a tattered T-shirt. In one hand, he brandished a heavy belt; in the other, a glowing cigarette butt that he was pressing toward the crying boy on the ground.

"It's never just another day." C H L O E "Chloe!" I grumpily stopped licking my ice cream and glared at JerkAss, who also returned my glare just as harsh. His yellow fluffy suit really does ruin his bad boy demeanor because he looks like the son of Cookie Monster and Big Bird. I gave him a 'what the heck do you want?' look. He shouted sarcastically, "I don't know, oh wait, I think it has something to do with something that is clinging on me!"

“But it’s a picnic.” Rolling his eyes and patting Grace on the head, he stood. Grace smiled at him, but she was more interested in setting up her paints and small easel than ice cream, I could tell. Her hands were surprisingly expert for a five-year-old, werewolf or not, and I knew I was going to enjoy watching her do something she obviously cared about so much. Noticing, Chloe reached for her sketchpad and charcoal. “What should I draw, Mommy?” “What looks fun?” I said, looking around. Unfortunately, the older boy with the soccer ball was staring at us, or rather, at me. And as soon as we made eye contact he came striding forward, his permanent sneer deepening with each step.

Chloe sucked that cucumber as she would do to a lollipop, draining all of it into her mouth. Jonas licked her donut all over, sneaking two fingers next to his tongue inside her hole. They played like that for a while until Jonas couldn't help it anymore, but released his whipped cream inside Chloe's mouth, filling it, giving Chloe a proper breakfast rich in protein. Then he kept eating his dessert while gently slapping it very fast until Chloe replied to the breakfast that she had just received with a similar one all over Jonas's face. She went like that for five minutes, her entire body shaking from such a long and great release.