Fluffy Drawings Novels & Stories

For a little guy, he is way too good. There are all different kinds of drawings that are too neat, I shuffle through them, trying to find one to stick on our fridge in the kitchen. I smile to myself when I come across a picture of him and I then there's Jasmine and even Alex, with and without devil horns— that makes me laugh. I pass by other boyish things, like cars, dragons, dogs, dinosaurs and ninjas, lots and lots of them.

“Mommy, Daddy, look!” Thomas turned off the stove, wiping his hands on a towel before crouching down to her level. “Let’s see this masterpiece.” Lily carefully held up the paper. The dragon she had drawn was big and colorful, with red wings, yellow flames, and a green tail. It was messy, with crayon lines darting everywhere, but it was full of heart. “Wow,” Thomas said, his voice filled with awe. “That’s the coolest dragon I’ve ever seen.”

Victory pudding. Amara laughed softly and typed back: Tell him I love him. A minute later, another message appeared: He knows. But I’ll tell him anyway. She folded the shawl closer around her, then reached for her pencil. She didn’t draw a face this time. She started with a swirl—bold strokes of gold, deep reds curling into soft blues. An emotional portrait. The baby’s heartbeat, perhaps. Or her own. Still beating. Still holding. On the next page, she drew two hands—one steady, one trembling—reaching. Not yet touching. Just... almost.

What would they think if a bunch of people in the class drew themselves as wolves? “That’s an excellent question, Starla,” Mrs. Flynn said. “I would prefer you keep your images of yourself in your human form, please, though I don’t expect any of you to draw a true portrait of yourself that doesn’t at least allude to your other self. Let’s see what subtle hints we can bring to light in our drawings that would let others know we aren’t all what we seem, shall we?”

I put my phone on charge and went downstairs to join everyone. Lizzie came in running holding a paper, "Oly... look I made this at school today.." I saw a drawing of two sticks with heads and hands.. I smiled, "who are these skinny people? Don't they eat?" She laughed, "It's you and meeee.. my teacher said we should draw people we love and I drew you..." I picked her up and put her on my lap, "well when my teacher tells me to drow a person I love, I'll draw you and me too.. trust that little kitten.."

Something fluttered from her hands as she turned the corner, a piece of paper, drifting slowly before landing near my chair. Silence swallowed the room, causing my stomach to drop. I stood up slowly and walked over, my movements heavy, like gravity had suddenly doubled. I bent down and picked it up. A drawing. Crayon and paint, bright and uneven, edges smudged with fingerprints. I stared at it. Three figures stood in front of a house. The woman had long hair and a wide smile. The little girl stood in the middle, holding both their hands. And the man, tall, broad, unmistakable stood on the other side.

he whispers before pecking me on the lips. “Hey,” I reply, taking a peck of my own. “How’s everything going?” “Dare I say, pretty smoothly,” he remarks. “No complications so far.” “That’s great!” “Mommy, daddy, here!” Ending our conversation, Lucy shows us an A4 sheet full of stick figures she’d drawn, smiling under the sun while standing on grass. Well, they aren’t quite stick-like figures, they certainly look better than my own drawings at her age. It seemed like somebody was developing talent. She’d taken an interest in drawing lately, and it had stuck more than her previous interests had.

“I most certainly will, “ I have to. The sheer injustice of defacing books has sparked a passion within me. I can not stand to abide by such a crime. I would never forgive myself. However, I must correct this blunder before true mayhem comes to life and he is lost to chaos. For the sake of all books! I vow and look for my quill. Where could it be? “Oh, he’s drawn you a picture.”Maddie flips the letter for both of us to see. It’s another of Nicoli’s artworks- I see more stick figures. One is brown and the other purple. They seem to be eating. Bread? Or pie? And a rectangular creature, a horse/bear, sits with them. I feel my lips crack into a smile at the sight. It makes my chest grow warm and

It looks like I’m laughing, blissfully happy. My heart slams against my ribs as I flip to the next page, this one a drawing of me from the waist up, a mischievous grin on my face and my long hair covering my bare breasts. I flip to the next one. And the next one. Pages upon pages of my face, my body. There must be a hundred of them. Every single sketch is me.

Lily asked. She looked at the drawing. She thought about Hong Kong and a hospital and an elephant called El. She thought about Ada with two kinds of tomatoes and a Sunday lunch still to come. She thought about a man on a plane and a kiss that had not been a question. "Yes," she said. "Everyone is okay." Lily looked at the drawing for a moment. Then he added a sixth figure at the very edge of the page. Small. With curly hair she did not recognise. "Who is that?" she said.