Elizabeth Afton Drawing Novels & Stories

She thrust a slightly crumpled piece of paper toward him. Elena smiled, setting the plates on the table. “Let’s see it.” The drawing was a simple, colorful sketch: three stick figures holding hands, with a sun overhead and a small heart above. The heartwarming innocence of it contrasted sharply with the harsh reality he was living. He placed a hand over the paper gently, careful not to crumple it further. “This is beautiful.” he murmured, eyes softening as he looked up at Elena. Aria beamed. “Do you like it, daddy?”

Azriel commanded in an utterly casual tone of voice, as if he were only showing a drawing of a natural landscape. Isolde, with trembling fingers, turned the paper to the second page. There, the strokes of the drawing were far more bold and wild. There appeared a sketch of Isolde sitting leaning back with her pair of plump legs forced wide apart. Azriel's head was depicted as buried between the mounds of Isolde's large breasts, as if nursing greedily there. Not stopping there, one of Azriel's hands in the drawing appeared to grope downward, with detailed fingers depicted as penetrating Isolde's sensitive vagina area.

Sharon asked. "Guess I should ask you guys that question too." "Well I asked first." Sharon said. "Trying to get over Caitlin death when I feel asleep, and you know witches do nasty stuff many times, don't know how I drew while asleep and it looks what I drew looked like somewhere in the woods so I decided to take a survey." Devina said bringing out an A4 paper which had some drawn images. "But it's dangerous out here devy." Elsa said. "But now you guys are here? Right?" Devina said.

Nicole. “Heidi…” my heart softened as I dropped to my knees beside her. “I’m gonna put them back, I promise. I just wanted mum to stay here for a while.” One of her drawings rested ont he table too, almost covered by mum’s scarf. I pulled it from under there. It wasn’t the best picture but I could tell it was two older women with a child in between them. One of the women’s hair was done with a yellow pencil while the other was black, the child had tiny dots around her head to imitate hair, but what they all had in common was the yellow circles hovering over their heads and the triangle wings.

CHRISTIAN POV Hope was sprawled on the floor, crayons scattered everywhere, one hand sketching furiously, the other still glued to an ice-cream cone. I’d lost count of how many she’d inhaled. At this rate, she’d either explode or bounce off the walls all night. “Hope, what are you drawing?” I asked, leaning down. She flipped the pad around proudly. My brows shot up. It was me and Elizabeth…kissing. Full lips, stick-figure bodies, and for some reason, a massive red heart floating above our heads.

Elena took it gently and flipped the cover, careful not to tear the battered pages. Inside was a drawing: jagged mountains, a row of stick-figure people—woman, child, three others with wolfish heads and improbable bodies, trailing a sled through deep blue snow beneath a black, glittering sky. At the bottom, in shaky crayon, was scrawled: “Hope is a wolf.” Elena smiled, her vision blurring a little. She looked up at the girl and, unsure what else to do, nodded. “Hope is a wolf?” she repeated, softly.