Ponyboy Outsiders Drawing Mga Nobela at Kwento

Leonid watches me approach his smaller, chestnut pony with a pure, smug satisfaction. “See?” Leonid says as I reach down to pat the pony’s velvet nose. “He doesn’t bite like Z’ver. Z’ver ate a stable boy’s boot once. Whole.” “I did not need to know that,” I chuckle, scratching the pony right behind its ears. “But your horse is very handsome, Leonid.” “Of course he is. I chose him,” the boy snaps, though his chest puffs out with pride. “Am I interrupting a family outing?”

Lewis reached out and touched Darren's head: "The wind is in my eyes, Darren, go play somewhere else." "Adults also like to lie, that's a story to deceive three-year-olds, I'm already five years old this year," Darren said as he ran away, using a stick to draw on the snowy ground of the courtyard. Lewis initially didn't pay attention and sat by the window copying Buddhist scriptures. After a while, Darren shouted from the snow: "Master, master, come see if my drawing looks like her." Lewis looked up, and the portrait of Judy was depicted on the snow, with simple strokes outlining Judy's face, lifelike.

“I’m really sorry she said that.” Bonnie glanced at me, assessing. “You didn’t, though.” “No,” I said. “I didn’t. And I wouldn’t.” She didn’t respond, but her shoulders relaxed by a fraction. We walked a little farther, sat on the grass. Bonnie pulled a folded piece of paper from her backpack and hesitated before unfolding it. A drawing, two girls on a carousel, one with lighter hair, one darker. An adult figure stood nearby, watching. “That’s from the amusement park,” I said gently.

Why was it here? A shiver ran down my spine. I unfolded the drawing with shaky hands. The drawing was in crayon. On the paper were four stickmen standing in a row, hand-in-hand. I quickly realized that they represented the four of us—Leah, Madison, Queenie, and me. However, the stickman that represented me had its eyes crossed out in black crayon. She had been watching me all along.

What I thought before about a male figure in her life being good for Annie still applied, I was holding on to that. “Here it is, Mommy,” Annie proclaimed, setting the sheet of paper down in front of me. For a drawing that had inspired such panic in me, it was remarkably innocent. It really was just a picture of crayon versions of Layton, Annie and I standing next to a blue pond. We were each holding a fishing rod and there was a basket of fish on green grass next to us. “That’s beautiful, honey. We’ll have to go again sometime.” I told her, sliding the plate with the sandwich in front of her and filling a glass with water. She munched happily on her snack and I took a second just to watch he

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.

Perry asked. I looked at Dustin, feeling sad. I really didn’t want to show my drawing. All the other kids had mommies, daddies, brothers, or sisters in their pictures, but I didn’t have any of those. Even Dustin had them, too. It made me feel like crying. “Mrs. Perry, can I go first?” Dustin chimed in, smiling at the teacher. She agreed, and Dustin eagerly showed everyone his drawing, so Mrs. Perry seemed to forget about mine.

she asked innocently, while carefully edging the corners of her drawing. “Yes,” Adam answered matter of factly. Penny silently pondered over it. She wondered if she also had a dad. If yes then where was he? How would he be? Only one face flashed through her mind. An idea clicked her and she began drawing another figure beside her. This one was muscular and taller than both of the females. She put all her concentration in making the sketch and when she was done, she filled it with color. Adam’s eyes grew wide when he noticed a muscular frame beside little Penny.

Gratefully. "Did you work on anything?" asks Dane. "As in art homework?" I ask back. "Yeah." "I did the ten sketches, if that's what you're talking about," I say as I pull out my book. Opening it up to the page, I show him. "I like that one," says Dane as he points at one that I made of Rupert at his house. Rupert sits on the porch, and look out at the huge grassy yard. He sits resolutely and above is the sky and clouds drawn in wavy pencil lines.

Leo cheered, skidding to a halt beside my chair and thrusting the paper right into my lap. I looked down at the drawing, a soft, involuntary smile breaking across my face. It was drawn in bold, vibrant colors. In the center was a stone castle with blue flags on the turrets. Standing in the grass out front were three stick-figure people holding hands. On the left was a figure with black hair in a red dress labeled Mommy. On the right was a broad figure colored in black crayon labeled Mr. Tyson. And right between them, holding both of their hands with a yellow smiley face, was a smaller figure labeled Leo.