Rukia Drawing 소설 & 이야기

It was just the two of them in a doorway, looking at what they were looking at, being exactly where they were. The drawing was in the centre of the desk. Katřina had made it at the kitchen table on a Saturday and had brought it to Grace with the focused pride of someone presenting completed work for assessment. The assessment had been: I’m putting this on my desk. Katřina had received this as appropriate. The drawing was in wax crayon, large confident strokes in the colours Katřina had selected, and at the bottom in letters that were entirely her own interpretation of the alphabet was written, in Grace’s transcription in pencil below: MAMA’S WORK. What the drawing depicted was not entirely c

That one stung. I brushed a stray curl from her cheek. “What are you drawing?” She hesitated, then flipped the page toward me. It was a sketch of three stick figures. One was tall with black hair, one with long brown hair, and one small in the middle holding both their hands. Ryan. Me. Her. My throat tightened. “That’s beautiful, Molly.” She shrugged. “I was bored.” Claire appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, that look on her face, the one that meant she’d been thinking about something serious.

My room was exactly how I’d left it. Small. Dim. Mine. The bed creaked as I dropped my bag onto it. I headed straight for the bathroom, already pulling my shirt over my head as I walked. Rhea had made herself at home on my mattress, sitting cross-legged with a piece of paper in her hands. “Look!” she said, holding up her drawing. “This is the T-Rex! I gave him fangs like a wolf.” I peeked from the bathroom door and grinned. “He’s terrifying. You’re getting too good at this.”

she switched her black crayon to a yellow one. "Oh, what do we have here? Can I take a look?" Ruth said, diverting Gianna's paper to her, "Wonderful! You did this?" Gianna nodded. "So here is your beautiful mummy, I presume," she pointed out a not-so-straight stick drawing representing a woman with red hair and an ear-to-ear smile drawn in red crayon, which no doubt represented her mother's signature garnished lips. "And this is you, right?" Ruth acknowledged an almost similar version of the first drawing, except it looked small, had a black yarn-like excuse of a ponytail above her head, and no red represented ear-to-ear smile. "Yeah."

A man, there is a girl in the middle of them and a woman holding hands. Well, I assume that the two in the drawing are women because they have skirts. Of course, who else are these three. It's Kenzo, Yelena and Marga. Their family drawing made by Yelena. I looked at his other drawings, there are mountains and then in the middle is the sun and I think the flower farm below him is the water color used in the drawing. There are also other drawings that look like the three of them again, but the same colors were used in the drawing.

--- The room was exactly as I'd left it. The crescent moon nightlight glowed on the wall. Her stuffed rabbit was on the bed, surrounded by a pile of drawings. She showed me each one, a picture of her and Nikolai, a picture of the cookies they'd made, a picture of the house with three stick figures in front. "This one is you," she said, pointing to the tallest one. "And this is me. And this is Kazi." I looked at the drawing. At the three stick figures holding hands.

"There were no phones over there! That place was like an ancient world!" Ria nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I sketched him from memory, Mother. Every detail I could remember. Then I took a picture of the sketch and used a digital rendering app to make him look photorealistic. And look... here he is. Klein in a suit." Ria stared down at the screen, her gaze lingering on the image. "He looks really great in a suit, doesn't he? So different from the ancient garments he wore back then."

Vladimir explained. He unwrapped his arms from around me and walked to his desk, opening it, he showed me a file which contained his drawings. I nodded at him, asking for permission to see the rest of the pictures. The one he showed me was of a black dragon with a red eye and fire coming out of its mouth. “Why’d you stop though?”

The rabbit had been mended multiple times, each stitch a testament to the years of comfort it had provided. "Mommy!" Dorothea's voice was soft and sweet, her eyes bright with excitement. She shoved a freshly drawn picture toward the camera, pressing it so close to the lens that it blurred for a moment before she pulled back. On the paper, drawn in thick, heavy black crayon, stood a figure—tall, impossibly straight. It had no face, just a blank oval where features should have been. But behind its broad shoulders, a pair of enormous black wings spread wide across the page like a dark shroud. The wings were drawn with intense pressure, the crayon laid down so thickly that it left a slight textu

“Draw whatever you can think of in an hour and submit.” Once he made the rules and regulations known, we began to draw. At first, I had no idea what to draw or paint, but as I placed my painting brush against the drawing board, it began to move on it own. In less than thirty minutes, I was drawing something jaw-dropping … no someone. My hand came to an halt upon realising what I had done. In front of me was a drawing of my step-brother, Ruslan Fucking Orlov. Jesus fucking Christ…. What have you done, Ivana?