Emojis Drawing Novels & Stories

(End of flashback) I traced out an outline of a dress on the new page of my sketchpad, my creativity coming to life as my pencil danced across the large page rapidly. I visualised Lola's physique as I drew. I had to admit she had the body of a model, which made it easier to draw. As I began to outline the dress, my phone rang and I picked it up. It was an unsaved contact "Hello?" "Emily. It's always a pleasure to hear your beautiful voice" I rolled my eyes. Of course it had to be Max and his weird greetings. "Hi, Max", I replied awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck after placing my pencil on the sketchpad.

His shoes are gone, hair in a messed halo, clutching a folded sheet of paper with a crayon drawing that is both ridiculous and the most perfect thing I have ever seen. “Daddy!” He launches at me and collapses into my lap, arms flinging around my neck. His hug is fierce and immediate and I realize how desperately I wanted this to be normal. His small hands are warm; the smell of soap and crayons surrounds him. His little legs are damp from running through the corridor, and he presses his drawing into my chest. “Eli,” I say, voice thick. “Hey, mate.” He presses the drawing up to my face. “I made another one for you. It’s a rocket-robot that spits water to put out bad guys.” He grins as if he’s