Interrupted Reading Painting Novels & Stories

I looked up at his face and he was grinning happily like a Cheshire cat. "You're clinically insane," I spat as I pulled out one of his lungs and dropped it to the ground far below us. I could hear Cassian laughing above me and frowned. I was losing too much of my blood and my sight was getting blurred. I swiped once again connecting with his neck.and could see his head barely hanging onto his body but trying to weave itself back together.

William admired the craft but could not understand any of the writings on the wall like the rest. William notices faint red paint scattered across the mural. He then activates his Sense and sees the red paint move, just like what happened with the cave painting in Ingrid's home. The writing forms into figures and begins to move as they create a story of the ones who wrote this, the Zonian.

Kyle was about to ask her to leave him alone when Tania joined her hands pleadingly as her eyes twinkle, "Please, I insist." With a sigh, Kyle picked the canvas back up as he shifted his chair backwards to make some room. He half-heartedly worked on tearing the cover from the canvas. When his eyes landed on the painting— a portrait actually— his heart thudded and emotions clogged his throat. Tbc...

Dark black paint had been violently smeared across the ruined pieces and thrown aggressively onto the floor. My hands started to shake uncontrollably. "No. No, no, no." Jesse stepped into the room behind me and froze in his tracks. "Holy shit." I walked slowly toward the easel, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. My midterm was ruined. Weeks of sleepless nights, stained fingers, and hard work were completely gone. I reached out, my trembling fingers hovering just inches over the slashed canvas. It wasn't an accident. Someone had taken a sharp blade to it with absolute, vicious intent.

I closed my eyes for a second. Then… another image came. Leo. His small hand in mine. His laugh. His voice. “Be strong.” My chest softened. Slowly… I opened my eyes. And I began to paint. Not pain. Not darkness. But something… quiet. A woman. Standing. Not crying. Not broken. Just… standing. Holding a child. With light behind her. I didn’t rush. I didn’t think too much. I just… painted. Time passed. I didn’t even notice.

"I know." He picked up a novel from the coffee table. "Paint." She looked at him. "I'll read." As he quietly read aloud, Vivi picked up her brush again. The familiar sound of his voice slowly pushed the article out of her thoughts. Stroke by stroke, color returned to the canvas. When she finally stepped back an hour later, the painting looked brighter than it had before. She smiled. "I think it's almost finished." "I knew it would be." She wrapped her arms around him.

It takes my breath away, making my eyes gleam with delight. She stands, holding the painting in her hands, a radiant smile gracing her face. The artwork captures my transformation. An image of me using a riding crop to spank her on one side, while on the other, I am depicted kneeling before her, offering her the riding crop to spank me. “You know, when you asked me to spank you in the morning, I had the inspiration for this painting at that precise moment.” She tells, her voice filled with delight as I lose myself in the intricate details of the artwork.

Then, we can talk. ******* Two days later, a package arrives. It’s big, wrapped in brown paper, with my name written in Nila’s messy handwriting. I put it on my desk, trace the letters with my finger, and rip the paper open. It’s a painting. A naked woman kneels in a field of ruins and ashes, her back arched, arms lifted slightly toward the stormy sky. Her black hair blows in the wind, partly covering her face. A long black spear is stuck in her chest, and red paint drips down her body. A vulture sits on the end of the spear, waiting.

When she was about to touch them, the old man suddenly stopped her and said, "Don't, don't touch them." The old man was so excited that he squatted down reflexively and stretched out his hands to stop Jessica. Jessica was suddenly interrupted and looked at the old man in shock. The old man immediately said, "The paint on this painting is not ordinary." After saying that, he looked at the painting as if he was looking at a treasure.

"I'm curious what Grandma is up to." I slowly made my way to the house and hid underneath a window. I heard a soft moan from within—it sounded like a woman's. "A young body is definitely more productive. I was surprised we could offer them four paintings last time. This time, we're doing three," Grandma spoke in a joyful tone. "M-Madam Albright…" I heard Beth gasping and moaning in the room. "I get it. You've worked hard. Don't worry. I'll treat you right. Drink this, and you'll recover soon."