Neon Drawings Novels & Stories

The October evening was warm inside and cold outside and the particular quality of a gathering at the turn of the season when the warmth of people together was the right answer to the cold world beyond the walls. The next day Calla’s drawing arrived. A birthday drawing. Elena had written on the back that Calla had spent three days on it and had told her it was the most important drawing she had ever done. It showed the web. More detailed than the previous drawings. Each node is a specific figure now, not abstract shapes but people, each one different from the others in small ways that suggested Calla was feeling individual presences in the web clearly enough to render them distinct. In the c

It was just like the writings of a computer, neatly and clearly obvious. Her perfect handwriting flows gracefully across the page, with elegant curves and consistent spacing. Each letter was meticulously formed, exuding a sense of sophistication and precision that captures attention and invites admiration. I picked up the drawings, and observed the nude pictures perfectly sketched out on blank sheets. This young Miss drawing is a mesmerizing dance of colors and lines, weaving together to create a vivid tapestry of emotions. With each stroke, she breathes life into her creation, capturing fleeting moments of beauty and depth.

But they all grabbed a marker pen and started drawing anywhere they could reach. They all seemed to know what they were drawing. When they finished drawing their individual pictures, they went to a larger blank wall. Where Max drew a big circle, Eden then drew a slightly smaller circle inside of it. Before Jaxon drew some lines connecting the circles. It made it look a little like a clock. But Eden added some wavy lines at the bottom of it. When they finished, they went to a sofa, curled up with Evie and cried. I looked at their pictures. Max had drawn a man’s shaver but with small lightening bolts coming off it, Jaxon had drawn a bucket and Eden had drawn a knife.

But this time… I didn’t draw the house. I didn’t draw the past. I turned to a clean page. And I just… sat there. Thinking. Feeling. What do I want now? Not what I lost. Not what hurt me. But what I want. My hand moved slowly. I started drawing Leo. His small face. His bright eyes. His soft smile. I added little lines around him… like light. Warm light. Then I drew myself beside him. Not far. Not outside. But close. Holding his hand.

SELENE'S POV I narrowed my eyes in concentration as I made final strokes on the drawing. A few minutes later, I stepped back to look at the finished product. It was beautiful. My first drawing in ten years. I sighed and dropped my pencil before falling on the couch. I had no idea why I still went ahead with the drawing of the logo, even after everything. I closed my eyes and my head fell on the headrest. As always, that scene played in my head. The same one that had kept me awake several nights in a roll.

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.

Like she⁠ was living inside a life she wasn’t sure‌ she deserved. She⁠ sto‌p⁠ped in front o‌f Noah’s‌ draw‍ing⁠s‌ pinn⁠ed near the kitchen‌. ‍Crayon stick figures. Cars. A messy drawing of a‍ll three of them holding‍ hands.‌ She s‍miled softly. Then something caught her attenti⁠on.⁠ A‌ small note att‍ached to one of the drawings. ‍She pulled it cl⁠o‌s⁠er.

Ace chimed in, his eyes shining with pride. I couldn't help but smile at their infectious energy, feeling a warmth spread through my heart. Pushing aside my worries for a moment, I shifted my focus to them, eager to see their creations. "That's wonderful, sweeties! Let me see." I beckoned them closer, and they eagerly rushed over, holding their drawings into my hands. Luna's drawing shown a colorful garden scene, complete with flowers, butterflies, and a shining sun, while Ace's featured a tall tree laden with apples, surrounded by smiling stick-figure people.

Chapter 32 POV: Emerald The first thing I noticed was the color. Bright. Unapologetic. Sunbursts of yellow and soft blue skies streaked across the paper like hope had taken shape in a child's crayon-stained fingers. I stood at the kitchen counter, my tea growing cold in my hands, while Kelvin shyly held out the drawing he’d brought home from art class. It was slightly wrinkled at the corners, the bottom edge torn just a bit—as if he’d held it too tightly on the way home, afraid it might slip from his grasp.

At first, it was just a child’s drawing—simple, unpolished, full of uneven lines and bold colors—but as he looked closer, he recognized the figures immediately. Hold on, it wasn’t just any drawing, he thought. The two smaller figures were unmistakable: Neal and Noel. The way they stood close together, their stick-like arms almost touching, mirrored how they were in real life—always side by side, as if the world made more sense that way. He could even tell which one was Neal and which one was Noel by the blond color of Neal’s hair. One that bore a striking resemblance to his own. Next to them, Avery was drawn with long, flowing brown hair, the familiar softness in her expression somehow captu