Trash Drawing Novels & Stories

Yenn and Jiwoon start cleaning their rooms as they both agreed on splitting the chores, he cleaned his room, the veranda and the balcony while Jiwoon took charge of the bathroom and his room. When he's cleaning his room, taking trash out and some papers that he wrote onto, he stumbled over the mighty unidentified colorless liquid in his drawer. Fuck! He abruptly throw it to the garbage bag and rummage through his drawer taking the weird things out that he didn’t knew was there and heartlessly throwing it to the trash. He don’t want another brawl between his roommate because of those so—out of sight out of mind! He tied the garbage bag tightly and doubling it with another in case it rip or so

Remembering how this album of five years' worth of drawings almost got thrown out like trash by Susan and Esther, anger welled up in me, making my temples throb furiously. "Throw it away," Shelia didn't take it. "You've been drawing in this sketchbook for years. It must be important to you. How can you just throw it away?" I looked at her in shock. "It was important once. But not anymore. Just consider it practice sketches." Shelia said with a smile, but her smile held a polite distance. "Is there anything else? If not, I'll be going." I wanted to say more, but felt choked up. Watching her turn away, the dizziness from yesterday's accident hit me again. Just then, someone tapped me from behi

Between that and the trade-in, we’ll see what they offer. I head downstairs and straight to the garage. First things first, cleaning out the van. Old fries. Cold nuggets. Crushed crackers. Random toys. Receipts. I shake my head as I toss everything into the trash. I vacuum it out with the shop vac, doing my best to make it presentable. I want no excuses when it’s time to negotiate. I check the time. Not even 8:30 yet. I’m finishing up when I reach under the passenger seat. Something catches. A piece of fabric. I pull it once, twice, then harder.

However, I had a habit of recording every moment of the rehearsal, documenting each detail of the bride and groom’s wedding rehearsal day. So, I let her rage. Go ahead, destroy everything. It was all my company's property, and every single item she broke would have to be repaid—down to the last cent. When she caught sight of my smirk, her face contorted in a mixture of rage and disbelief. "Why are you laughing? How dare you laugh!" I chuckled, pointing toward the carefully boxed wedding gown at the edge of the stage. "I'm laughing because after trashing all that, you still missed the most important thing. As long as the wedding dress is intact, the ceremony can still go on."