Hanako Kun Drawings Novels & Stories

Jordan called again. I pressed “Decline” without thinking. “Dad?” Jason tugged my sleeve, smiling up at me. “Do you wanna see my drawings? I draw superheroes. And cars. And you too.” “Me?” I blinked. “You drew me?” “Yes!” He hopped excitedly. “But I didn’t know what you looked like, so I guessed!” I swallowed. “Show me,” I said quietly. He grabbed the folder on the little table beside him and pulled out a sheet of paper.

A man, there is a girl in the middle of them and a woman holding hands. Well, I assume that the two in the drawing are women because they have skirts. Of course, who else are these three. It's Kenzo, Yelena and Marga. Their family drawing made by Yelena. I looked at his other drawings, there are mountains and then in the middle is the sun and I think the flower farm below him is the water color used in the drawing. There are also other drawings that look like the three of them again, but the same colors were used in the drawing.

The Ecostanian-style palace decoration looked luxurious and grand. Flora opened the small bag on her back and took out a picture book. “Mommy look, this is the family portrait I draw. This is Mommy, this is Daddy, and this is Jason, this is Jerry, and this is me.” There were five cartoon-like characters in the drawing. Although the drawing look was crooked and very abstract, each character was grinning from ear to ear. When I saw it, I smiled until my eyes turned red, “Oh! Baby, you are so awesome. You draw it so well.”

We arrived at their tent to find them drawing. “There are my favorites.” Karson beamed, kneeling in front of them for a hug. “Daddy!” Carl and Karin squealed, jumping into his arms. “What are you two drawing?” I asked. They pulled the papers to show two figures that look like male caricatures and a female caricature of me with crazy hair fighting someone on the ground. “Let me guess, that is me, your daddy, and uncle Lucas fighting the evil lady.” I gestured at the drawings.

The other children were busy working on their assignments, but Hibiki’s mind was already somewhere else—he had been thinking about the treehouse he had drawn at home the night before. His teacher, Mrs. Nakamura, had asked them to draw something that represented their imagination, and Hibiki had spent the entire evening sketching a dreamlike treehouse—one with twisting vines, brightly colored windows, and a ladder made of vines that seemed to lead straight to the clouds. The treehouse was a magical place, a world of possibilities where adventure could happen at any moment.

It was almost as if he truly was the genius he claimed to be. Struggling to come up with my next drawing, my eyes wandered up towards the sky. There, soaring high above us was a sleek and powerful jet plane. Without hesitation, I began to sketch the impressive aircraft, my fingers deftly moving across the screen of Aaron's phone as I brought the image to life. Finally, with a sense of satisfaction, I presented my latest creation to Aaron. "Lycan Aaron, can you guess what this is?" Aaron studied the drawing intently. Then suddenly, a frown formed between his brows, and he said, “Are you crazy? Why are you drawing a man’s d*ck?”

Nabasag ang boses ko. "Galing po 'yan sa manika na binigay sa akin ni ate Seb, nakita ko po doon sa lumang bag ko." Awtomatikong tumulo ang mga luha ko at nanikip ang dibdib. Ang drawing ay nasa lumang papel na binalutan ng transparent tape para hindi mapunit. Isang bahay na bagama't hindi maayos ang pagkakagawa pero makikita ang nakapaloob na pangarap. Sa gilid nito ay isang babae na naka suot ng isang hard hat.

He just needed to hone his drawing skills more. Regina saw the small notebook, mostly filled with cute cartoon drawings, as well as a few pictures chronicling Kane's activities. It turned out he was keeping a diary in drawing form. Regina reached the last few pages and scanned them, drawn to the picture of three babies in the center of the paper, and the many people surrounding them, laughing and smiling. However, her heart sank when she saw a picture of a small child crouching in the corner of the paper. The child's face was gloomy, and he was hugging himself.

Then I reached the drawings. Someone had sat with a living thing and drawn it the way the old human anatomists drew, every line put down to be true rather than pretty. A figure, standing, filling the page. Not a man. It stood on two legs and had two arms, but the arms hung to the knees, longer than any arm I'd ever shaken. The jaw ran out too far and hung too heavy, built to hold more teeth than a face has room for. In its own panel beside it, the hands: longer in the palm than mine, the bone at the last joint of each finger hooked, a claw drawn back into the shape of a nail and not quite hidden there.