Galaxy Sketches Novels & Stories

The person next to her wanted to tell her to be careful, but she swallowed what she wanted to say when she remembered that Penny graduated from the Imperial Academy of Fine Arts. Penny sat down on the chair at the side. While examining the wall, she conceived a sketch in her mind. She decided to go with a splash-ink landscape drawing where the colors would go from light to dark. She did not want to include too many subjects. Otherwise, it would appear messy. After she decided on a direction, she started to mix the paint and prepared to start drawing. …

Cassidy scolded. Joel looked at his brother and licked the ice cream once more. Then he revealed mercilessly, “Mom, he already ate two ice creams.” He implied that he could have another one. Cassidy was left speechless. “Here are the latest sketches, Cassidy. Look. These are the ones I leaked. You can point out their flaws,” Rodel said. Cassidy took the sketches and flipped through them. Since summer was about to end, the drawings were all about autumn clothing, mostly trench coats and turtlenecks.

"Absolutely. And so I believed Tristian's claim to be false. But later, I checked my notebooks and guess what was filled in the back sheet?" "What?" I roll my eyes. This girl sometimes forgets to use her brain. "Ugh—dress sketches, Tessa! I made sketches while I was bored in the class. And by the look of the drawings,none of them appear like normal, disoriented scribbles or doodles. They are all perfectly designed and detailed drawings. Something I never believed I could make."

Bodies that didn’t follow any natural shape. Things that shouldn’t exist. Lia stepped back, covering her mouth. “What… are those?” No one answered. Nearby, there were star charts spread across a table. Lines connected unfamiliar constellations—patterns Cheska had never seen before. The stars didn’t match anything she remembered from school or books. It was like her grandfather had been mapping a sky that didn’t belong to this world. And then— The journals. Dozens of them. Stacked neatly, as if they were the most important things in the room.

Claris appeared to recover quickly with a slight shake of her head, and a quick wave of her hand over the table. “As you can see, each of these six galaxies align around each other to create the shape of….” “A hexagram,” Mitzie breathed out as her eyes remained fastened to what she was seeing before her. Luceron chuckled as he placed one arm across his stomach and the other in a fist to his mouth. “Someone paid attention in geometry class,” he said in an amused tone. She ignored his statement and continued to gawk at the vision in front of her. She didn’t understand the significance of what she was seeing, but Claris was more than eager to explain it to her.

I never knew there was an artist amongst the brothers, and instead of leaving before whoever it was caught up with me, curiosity got the better of me and propelled me to walk closer. There was a sketchbook on the other stool, and before I could think, I had picked it up and was flipping through the pages. The sketches were impeccable and wild, and as I stared at the sketches of skies, oceans, sad eyes, marketplaces, riverbanks, and kids playing, it pulled at my heartstrings. But what really stopped me was the sketches of a lady who looked so familiar. She was pretty in a way that defied logic, and with the way she came alive under his pencil, it almost felt like…

What's this one trying to say? Daniel had looked at the early sketches. Not the structural drawings — those were beyond his current literacy, the geometry of a building that size requiring more architecture vocabulary than he had absorbed. But the concept sketches, the pencil-on-trace studies that were the thinking-out-loud stage, the questions being asked before the answers were attempted. He had looked at them and thought: it's going to be right. Again.

His hands moved with a confidence that was mesmerizing, bringing images to life on paper with quick, sure strokes. “So you ran,” he said finally. “I didn’t run. I chose safety.” “Same thing.” I bristled again. “It’s not…” “Here.” He turned the sketch pad around. I sucked in a breath. It wasn’t a phoenix. It was a bird, but something else—maybe a swallow, wings spread mid-flight, breaking free from delicate chains that fell away beneath it. Simple but beautiful, the lines clean and purposeful. “It’s perfect,” I whispered.

He stood up and walked over to the wide oak workbench set against the wall. Laid out across the surface was a long scroll of heavy parchment he had spent three late nights drawing by hand. Instead of his usual complex astronomical maps detailing lunar phases or arcane ley lines, this chart was painted in soft indigo watercolor, depicting the night sky on the exact date his second daughter was expected to arrive. Tiny gold-leaf stars shimmered across the painted constellations. ​Gareth carefully unrolled the chart, holding it low so Liora could see.

“You made this today?” Gabby nodded. “Kendra give water paint.” “Watercolor.” “I know.” “Why is this one the tallest?” Gabby pointed without hesitation. “You.” Al had already grabbed his own sketchbook. His drawing wasn’t a pretty landscape. It was a rough side view of the lake, water, shore, rocks, arrows pointing to “deep” and “not deep,” plus a truly terrible fish that looked like a potato having an identity crisis. Rafael looked at it. “What’s this?”