Someone Drawing Novels & Stories

5, but I took it anyway. It’s a colored orange pencil with a black rubber where your fingers can't grip. It’s not pricey, and maybe she can use it to draw. I don’t know, I don’t draw, and I’m not very good at art, honestly not good at all. But I was just thinking the 0.5 thing written on the pencil looks so professional, and hopefully she can use it in her drawings. What do I know about art anyway? I can draw people and houses, but they all look like sticks when I draw them.

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.

He said: "He means more people." We looked at him. He stirred the oatmeal. "He's been drawing more figures for three weeks," he said. "He draws five and then adds more." He paused. "He draws six." He paused. "And then seven." He paused. "Not randomly." He paused. "He draws the family and then he draws more of the family." He paused. "He's documenting what he thinks is coming." He turned from the stove. He looked at us. At me.

But Elena slowly walked towards Sarah to peep at what she drew. Sarah sat down, closed her eyes and clenched her fist while Elena peeped at what she drew. "What's this?" Elena muttered to herself as she stared at what Sarah drew. A little boy, lying on a rock on the pool of his blood with a gunshot at his forehead. She wrote the number 9 close to her drawing and circled it. "What the fuck is this? " Elena muttered to herself. "Elena! You've got to see this!" Laura called out to her but she was still staring at the weird drawing.

Daniel's POV The drawing Chloe had given him still sat on the kitchen counter, catching the warm glow of the overhead light. The building with the open door. He kept glancing at it while the coffee brewed, the quiet hum of the machine filling the otherwise silent apartment. Steam rose in lazy curls from the mug he eventually poured. The lines in the child’s sketch were surprisingly confident for a five-year-old. The proportions were decent, the perspective intuitive. But it was the figure in the doorway that held his attention, no face, just a dark, solid presence. A sentinel standing watch.

"What does your new friend look like, Heidi?" Heidi proudly lifted her drawing. It was a crude, childish sketch of a very tall figure standing between two giant green trees. The figure was colored completely in dark gray and black crayons, but the most unsettling part was the face. Heidi had used a bright yellow crayon to draw two massive, perfectly round circles for the eyes.

Then she opened it and held it up. She had drawn the room. All of it. Every person in their position from the moment she had arrived, rendered in precise, unsentimental lines. Claire by the window. Rosa in the doorway. Elena at the counter. Damian on the balcony. Lila at the table. Noah on the couch. Mia between them. The old man in his chair. And in the corner of the page, small and slightly separate from the others, a figure that was clearly herself. Holding a sketchbook. Watching everything.

I corrected, caressing his hair with a smile just before one of his other drawings caught my interest. “Can I see this?” I gestured to the drawing of the three stick figures that was beside his current work. “Yes.” “Thanks, sweetie,” I beamed, as I studied the stick figures, wondering who the three people were, although I had an inkling that the two shorter ones were supposed to be him and I. The third one was taller and slightly larger and I couldn't place a finger on who it could be. “Who are these people?” I asked, and he averted his focus from his work in progress to look at the drawing.

We may be separated by distance, but my love for you remains unwavering. Braxton] The next piece of paper is a child's drawing, a colorful and simple representation of family. In the drawing, there’s a man in a suit with grayish hair, depicted with a smile on his face. Standing beside him is another man in a suit with black hair, who’s holding hands with a woman in a simple dress. Between the man and the woman is a toddler in a jumpsuit. Then there’s a baby, cradled in the woman’s arms, completing the image. And beside them, with a knowing grin, is a figure labeled ‘Grandpa.’