Duality Drawing Novels & Stories

In just a few simple strokes, I captured the devotion and weathered expression on his face with striking depth. Jess kept flipping. One by one, she looked through my sketches. She saw an old man praying beside a prayer wheel, children playing beneath snow-capped mountains, an antelope with eyes as clear as the sky, wildflowers swaying in the wind… Each page overflowed with reverence for life drawn in vivid, lively strokes. There weren't any complex compositions or dazzling colors. They were just sketches. But the level of artistic foundation, the sincerity of the feelings behind them, and the raw energy flowing from them far surpassed that ornate, calculating work called "Duality."

I gestured to my office. What he showed me was raw genius—charcoal drawings of pack life that captured something essential and true. Wolves mid-shift, the exact moment between human and animal. Ceremonies rendered in intricate detail. Portraits of pack members that somehow showed both their human faces and the wolf beneath. "Daniel, these are incredible," I breathed, examining a drawing of a pack run—dozens of wolves rendered so precisely I could identify individuals. "How long have you been drawing?" "Since I was a kid. It's the only thing that helps when my wolf gets restless." He shifted uncomfortably. "I know they're probably not good enough for a real gallery—"

He asked and I nodded. "The resemblance is there. Apart from sketching, what other things do you do?" "I paint and draw" I replied, by now I was done packing my tools. "You know, drawing and writing are the same. You draw, you pour out your feelings when you write, and you as well pour out your feelings. The things we write or draw are connected to us. Sometimes we draw or write for professions but then it comes from within which is the manifestation of our thoughts. So my point is, ``Why did you choose to draw your brother-in-law?"

Daniel's POV The drawing Chloe had given him still sat on the kitchen counter, catching the warm glow of the overhead light. The building with the open door. He kept glancing at it while the coffee brewed, the quiet hum of the machine filling the otherwise silent apartment. Steam rose in lazy curls from the mug he eventually poured. The lines in the child’s sketch were surprisingly confident for a five-year-old. The proportions were decent, the perspective intuitive. But it was the figure in the doorway that held his attention, no face, just a dark, solid presence. A sentinel standing watch.

The card was not made with the twins' fingerprints this time, because the twins were eleven and had declined to participate in what Twin B had described as crafting projects with mild condescension and Twin A had declined more politely but with equal firmness. He had made it himself with his own hands. It was a drawing. Not a medical illustration, not a clinical study. A small drawing in the style he had developed in the workshop years, the specific direct line of someone who had learned to make marks for the purpose of making something true rather than for technical display. He had drawn the studio window. The afternoon light. The drafting table. The back of the person at the table, the ske

Chapter thirty-three Anabelle Pov The hall was noisy, the moderators were discussing with each other. While other members were whispering. I couldn't think about the noise. I closed my eyes and started mapping out the drawing found. I drew the mountains first, filling it with amber color, the mountain was filled with different giant trees. After properly drawing the mountain I drew the moon-bird. It was so fine to my eyes, I couldn't believe I was able to draw the same art work and it was better than the previous one.

It was just like the writings of a computer, neatly and clearly obvious. Her perfect handwriting flows gracefully across the page, with elegant curves and consistent spacing. Each letter was meticulously formed, exuding a sense of sophistication and precision that captures attention and invites admiration. I picked up the drawings, and observed the nude pictures perfectly sketched out on blank sheets. This young Miss drawing is a mesmerizing dance of colors and lines, weaving together to create a vivid tapestry of emotions. With each stroke, she breathes life into her creation, capturing fleeting moments of beauty and depth.

“That’s great! Do you remember anything else like a tattoo or a cut or any distinctive feature?” David thought for a while before drawing the picture of the beak of a bird within a shape that resembled a broken ‘T’, without the left half of the horizontal line and the vertical line seemed to be wacked in a bit. “This was on the left hand” David pointed to the back of his palm. “Umm” Dana nodded and looked in interest. David’s ego took a boost seeing Dana was interested. He started to draw more bits and pieces to the other portraits. All he wanted at this time was for Dana to sit admiring him.

Silence answered as she continued to study every page, her mind doing what it always did. Looking. Comparing. Connecting. One sketch showed three dinosaurs standing around a circle. Another sketch showed four trees surrounding a square. While another displayed what looked like a mountain. No. Althea thought. Just a triangle. It’s not a mountain. She frowned as she reached for another drawing and another. The more she looked at the drawings, the less random they became. Patterns. Always patterns. Althea knew her son well that Nicholas will never drew randomly. He would simplify, reduced, abstracted even despite his young age.

Women who are close to getting released are usually very weak and difficult to resist. "But, Mister-" "I'll double your pay today. Take it easy." I interrupted Aryo's refusal, positioning his hard-on right into Milly. Their long moans sounded harmonious. It was pretentious to refuse earlier, being brought together still won the animal lust. Half running, I searched for something in the nightstand drawer in my room. Taking out a strip of pills and some safety packs, condoms. I went back to see them still silent even though they were hugging each other.