Inktober Drawing Novels & Stories

Everything I've learned in the last hour has given me a lot to think about, and I always do my best processing through my doodles. I start with the easy stuff. With Omar, towering the length of the page, and then Ford, whose head seems to get bigger with every sketch. I draw Karen pursing her lips and tapping her fingers against her earpiece. I even doodle a few of the cameras and cameramen to complete the scene.

No reason, she's just never liked them. She took a brief search around the room and found a book and pen. She returned to the bed and started drawing on it. Yeah, Octavia was quite good at art. She loved it. She leaned her back against the wall and drew what she had in mind perfectly. It was a car. She was only good at drawing objects and has never attempted to draw a human. She drew the car perfectly and despite the fact it wasnt colored, she still admired it. She's always admired her works.

The way Kara showed off her drawing to the screen was like someone presenting a priceless gift. “Mommy, look! There’s a big person and a small person. It’s you and me!” Tina looked at the big and small stick figures that were holding hands and wearing skirts. They looked close. Only, there was a scribble of black to the side. Curious, she asked, “What’s this black thing over there?” “Oh, that’s Daddy!” Stunned, Tina asked, “What…?” “I only drew you and me, but the teacher said to draw a father. Since Daddy died ages ago, I drew a huge coffin!”

He sat. He looked at the star Liam had drawn at the top of the fresh page. He looked at her. He picked up the crayon. He looked at the page. He began to draw. She watched him. He drew slowly. He drew nine figures first. The same nine. All of them. Then he drew a tenth. Small. In the space below the seventh. He gave it curly hair because Ada's curls deserved to be there from the beginning. He looked at the name in the seventh figure's space.

In Salia's old class. Dr. Okonkwo's room. He had walked in on his first day with a drawing. He had put it on Dr. Okonkwo's desk. She had looked at it. It was the kitchen table. The star sticker. The five figures. Plus a sixth. The new figure. Small. In the corner. Near Salia's corner. Looking at the rock collection. Dr. Okonkwo had looked at the drawing. She had looked at Eli. She had said: who is the new figure.

Instead, he habitually bit the pen barrel, then pulled out a blank sheet of paper, placed his tiny hand on it, and drew five contorted fingers. After finishing the drawing, Owen carefully poked each finger one by one with his pencil. "1, 2, 3... 11, 12, 13, 14, 15..." The little one counted like reciting a sutra. Zack's head was spinning from all the reading. After finally counting "15" with great difficulty, Owen immediately started counting "17" and drew one line after another in the blank space while counting. Then, Owen drew the coils and started counting them one by one. "1, 2, 3..."

She was somewhere around seven or eight, completely absorbed in whatever she was drawing, her tongue pressed to the corner of her mouth in concentration. I lowered myself carefully into a chair near her, mindful of my ribs, and looked at the paper. The drawing was full. Not in a crowded way, in a deliberate way, like she had a clear picture in her head and was working her way across the page with intention. There was a dragon in the top left, red and blocky with impressive teeth. Below it, a woman in a red cape with a pointed hat on a flying broom, carefully coloured with a orange crayon. To the right of that, something with fangs and a dark cape that I was fairly certain was meant to be a v

“I made two. One for you and one for your dad. Here is Zuri and here is Michael. I figured we could hang them for people to see at the funeral and then the families can take the drawings home with them.” “That is very thoughtful honey. They will love that,” says mom. We head outside and I see three caskets, thankfully closed, and everyone in attendance taking their seats. Each casket has it’s own flower stand with a wreath. I decide to tape my picture in the middle of the wreath. I walk over to uncle Owen’s dad and hand him his drawing. “What’s this,” he asks. “It’s the same drawing that is hanging by Anna’s casket. I drew two. One for you and that one is for uncle Owen. I’m sorry about Anna

Heck she wasn't sure she would ever be ready. “How about we draw the scenery in front of us to see who draws better” Lola said avoiding the discomfort of having to reply him. She went through her tote bag and brought out two small drawing books and pencils. The sadness was visible in Omar eyes and he didn't cover it up so she could see it. . She handed Omar one of each making sure to avoid eye contact with him. They began to draw the scenery. Omar finished before her. He leaned back watching her concentrate so well on drawing. Lola looked up after she was done drawing to see that Omar had long finished his.

A piece of paper fluttered out. It was a drawing. Crayons on construction paper. Catherine picked it up, and her blood ran cold. The drawing showed two stick figures standing on a jagged white line (the ice). One was labelled "Daddy," drawn in blue. The other was labelled "Sad Man," drawn in red. They were fighting. But above them, the sky was ripped open. A black hole was drawn in the clouds. And coming out of the hole wasn't light. It was a tentacle. A massive, black, spiraling limb covered in eyes.