Neon Drawings Novels & Stories

From the hole, arrows shot out like rays from a dark sun. One arrow pointed to a tiny, screaming stick-figure ("LILY"). Another to a messy scribble ("NOAH"). Another to a detailed, perfect little house. Another, thinner and more desperate, reached toward a tall, handsome stick figure with kind eyes, labeled “LEO,” but the arrow fell short, dissolving into dots. At the bottom, I scrawled: EVERYTHING GOES OUT. NOTHING COMES IN. I AM AN EMPTY VESSEL. I glanced at Leo. His brow was furrowed in intense concentration. He was drawing a house. A beautiful, detailed, two-story house with a porch. Inside the windows, he'd drawn a woman surrounded by vibrant, chaotic yellow swirls-the kids. But the wom

Either way, its off-key resonance seemed to be drawing the zombies and Mer to it, as many had already reached the street and moved amongst the smoke. He continued to dive into the smoke, trying to spot the Emissary, when strange neon lights caught his attention. From above, the neon formed circles within circles and overlapped with a pentagon. It was not too dissimilar to what the witches in Tabitha Marie’s kitchen had been spellcasting within, except one made of neon tubing light, and moving. They carried a stretcher within their circle.

We’re to meet in two days, on an asteroid belt in the Q Sector. So I get to work, finishing up my newest design. It’s quite simple, really. I create a stand in the middle of the Command Deck. But instead of being made of metal or titanium, it’s made of solid Neron. Valen pulled enough of it from the earth outside to create a three-foot tall stand with two handles to grip at the top. The base of it goes to those tubes that flow through the ship, connecting to the Core affixed to the top of this beast.

“It’s their old neural wing. The one they kept sealed.” Eva stood, dusting her knees. “It was cold there. Like metal.” Savannah knelt, gathering her daughter into her arms. “You’re safe now, baby. No more cold rooms.” But the drawings kept coming. That night, they found another one tucked into Eva’s pillowcase. A man’s silhouette beside a red door, faceless, with the words “Echo Echo Echo” scribbled beneath in clumsy handwriting. Colton burned it in the outdoor oven.

Noah was on the floor with the drawing unrolled in front of him. He had added something in the lower right corner. Small. Specific. We crouched down to look. It was a house. Not Captain Fossil's house. A house. With a pitched roof and four windows and a garden. And three figures at the right side. A tall one. A medium one. A small one with a fossil in his hand. But different from the drawing on the kitchen table. In this version the three figures were inside the house. Not at the right side.

She sees Zane's drawing and bursts into laughter. The wonderful and loving husband drew Naevia as a very slim woman with a beautiful bump on her stomach. Holding guns and shooting at fat women that looked like monsters. The drawing wasn't that perfect, but Naevia loved it. Zane gave it to her and she held it close. The artist wanted to return Zane's money, but Zane told him to take it. Zane takes Naevia back home, where she shows Kelvin and tells him that Zane drew it for her.

I unlock the door as quietly as I can. Jonah’s asleep on the couch. He’s too big for it now—his legs hang off the edge, one arm thrown over his face and the other holding onto his inhaler—but he’s curled up under the blanket I bought him last Christmas. His sketchbook’s on the floor next to him, open to a page covered in dark, jagged lines. I kneel down. Look at the drawing. Monsters again. Always monsters. Claws and teeth and too many eyes, things that don’t look human but almost are, things that are breaking apart or putting themselves back together. I can never tell which.

Even Mondrian would have called them abstract. Nyla was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Why not?" "Because your drawings are way too abstract. No one but you could possibly understand them," Mason whined. Nyla glanced at Damon, who was nearby, and handed him the drawings. "You take a look. Can you guess what these are?" Damon examined the first one. It seemed to depict an animal—but whether it was an elephant or a hippo, he couldn't tell. Furrowing his brow, he ventured, "A walrus?"

By the window, Neo watched as cars departed from the neighborhood. He reached out, slowly drawing the curtains closed. Picking up the zombie doll from the floor, he placed it on a shelf in the small room. Then he walked over to the cabinet furthest inside and pulled open the drawer. Inside the drawer lay a row of handmade dolls. They were all tattered and strange-looking. Some were missing arms, some had broken legs. Others had their mouths sewn shut, their faces expressionless. These dolls all bore a striking resemblance to Jenny. Neo picked up one of the dolls, looking at its broken arm, his eyes filled with a chilling sense of foreboding.

“Hello.” “I was waiting for you.” “You were?” “Yes.” He held up a drawing. “I made another one.” Nora laughed. “Another one?” “Look.” She took it. This time, the drawing showed a large house. Three figures stood outside it. Leo..Adrian. And Nora. Nora smiled. “You really like drawing this house.” “Because it's ours.” The word caught her off guard. “Ours?” Leo nodded. “Mine, Daddy's and yours.” Nora didn't know what to say.