Climate Change Drawing Novels & Stories

He approached slowly, stopping a careful distance from Darius, and held out the folder without getting too close. Darius took it with his free hand, Julie still chattering against his chest, and opened it to reveal Jake’s careful drawings and explanations of the water cycle. “This is incredible,” Darius said, genuine admiration in his voice. “Did you do all this yourself?” “Mama helped with some of the words,” Jake admitted. “But the drawings are mine.” “They’re very good,” Darius said. “Much better than I could do. You have real talent.” Jake’s expression softened slightly, pride breaking through the caution.

A man, there is a girl in the middle of them and a woman holding hands. Well, I assume that the two in the drawing are women because they have skirts. Of course, who else are these three. It's Kenzo, Yelena and Marga. Their family drawing made by Yelena. I looked at his other drawings, there are mountains and then in the middle is the sun and I think the flower farm below him is the water color used in the drawing. There are also other drawings that look like the three of them again, but the same colors were used in the drawing.

"What does your new friend look like, Heidi?" Heidi proudly lifted her drawing. It was a crude, childish sketch of a very tall figure standing between two giant green trees. The figure was colored completely in dark gray and black crayons, but the most unsettling part was the face. Heidi had used a bright yellow crayon to draw two massive, perfectly round circles for the eyes.

There, hidden behind a curtain of weeping carbon-fiber vines, was a small, dilapidated shack. "What is this?" I asked. "The only place the grid can't see," Xander said. He pulled back the vines, and I saw a wall covered in jagged, hand-drawn charcoal sketches. I gasped. The sketches weren't of buildings or machines. They were of us. There was a drawing of a man and a woman standing in a mountain of gold; a drawing of a girl with a wooden ring; a drawing of a man with orange eyes holding a woman in the rain.

The first pages contained ordinary drawings. Faith. The house. The old fig tree. Then... His expression changed. Bethwel leaned closer. "What is it?" Alex turned the book around. Glen had drawn the northern woods. A square hatch. Six stick figures. One had a hat. Another had unusually large boots. Each figure carried a different symbol instead of a face. Joel smiled. "Children draw differently." Alex nodded. "No." "He wasn't drawing faces." "He was classifying them." He pointed at the figure with the hat.

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.

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.

Leo cheered, skidding to a halt beside my chair and thrusting the paper right into my lap. I looked down at the drawing, a soft, involuntary smile breaking across my face. It was drawn in bold, vibrant colors. In the center was a stone castle with blue flags on the turrets. Standing in the grass out front were three stick-figure people holding hands. On the left was a figure with black hair in a red dress labeled Mommy. On the right was a broad figure colored in black crayon labeled Mr. Tyson. And right between them, holding both of their hands with a yellow smiley face, was a smaller figure labeled Leo.

Rozi already knew most of what the drawings meant now that her memories from her last visit over a thousand years ago had returned. After some time, Padraig asked, "What do the drawings say, sir? We can't understand any of it." After a brief pause, Adrain explained, "It depicts the Creator killing countless lives a long, long time ago, and how he destroyed entire regions with tsunamis, earthquakes, landslides, typhoons, and even crustal movements. The more casualties there were, the more families were broken. The sky was filled with dark smoke, blotting out the sun that shone down on us tiny humans."

he said sincerely. "You've captured something I've been trying to paint for days—the way everything connects, how we're all part of the same picture." The other children crowded around, eager to show their work. One young god had drawn a picture of the new school with walls made of rainbows and roofs made of clouds. A mortal boy had sketched the moment when Zeus had apologized to the villagers, his drawing full of emotion despite its simple lines. Another girl had created a map of the world where all borders were drawn as rivers of music connecting one land to another.