Twisted Pebble Drawing Novels & Stories

They are always around her. The twins bend over the colouring papers littered at Brianna’s feet. “How is it going?” I point to Wyn’s drawing, she picks a crayon from the floor and hurriedly colours the sketch. Brianna loves to draw too. It’s one more thing they can bond over. “Let me see.” The sketch is horrible. A pencil drawing of stick images with big ears, bigger heads and tiny limbs. I am not sure what I am looking for but I muster the biggest smile.

Britney blurted out. Danielle knew Britney was right, She's carried away by the moments and blind to see what's happening. They both kept discussing other things. As Britney threw her left hand at Danielle to show her the engagement ring perfectly placed on her finger. Danielle screamed at the top of her voice as she hugged Britney with tears rolling down her cheek. She couldn't believe her best friend was getting married soon, She was happy for her.

While David was distracted with the other minions, Dorime began to splash ink in the wall using the onyx. He shaped it using his little hands and used his flying golem for the unreachable places. He painted a humanoid striking a T-pose in the center of the wall, with lines near its body, as if they represented that it was glowing. Near, he made the crude shapes of various of his new and older brothers: Skeletor was a small horned humanoid, lumps represented the rats and squirrels, some tunneling worms, vultures, beetles, and even some ants.

I sit back on my heels, the sandy floor of the cave cool beneath my fingers. Could it be the same woman? The thought of it runs a shiver through me, and I begin to draw on the cave's floor, my fingers tracing lines in the sand. The picture takes shape slowly. There's an eye, wide and unblinking, surrounded by a cascade of white hair that seems to glow even in the dim light of the cave. Veils drape around the figure, obscuring everything but the intense gaze that seems to pierce through the shadows. Around the central figure, I sketch other elements—abstract shapes that might be keys, or perhaps stars, their arrangement cryptic and deliberate. The entire drawing feels charged with eerie energ

The smaller person also has dark-colored hair and a green body. There’s a red line between the two people. Jenny’s fingers touched the edge of the stone steps. Her nails scraped against the stone, producing a “scritch” sound. She turned her gaze away from the drawing paper and looked at Olivia’s face. Olivia is using pink crayons to draw something in the lower right corner of the paper. Her wrist is very agile; the crayon draws an arc across the paper, then pauses. She changes the direction and draws another arc. The two arcs intersect, forming the outline of a butterfly.

"It's missing both ears." I watch as he picks up the stick this time and makes on the sand, two medium sized 'c's on both sides of the drawing. We both tilt our heads to the left at the same time and stare at the drawing on the sand. One of the eyes are way bigger than the other and the nose seems to be falling out of proportion, the shape of the head looks like that of an amoeba while the ears he just drew isn't fully connected to the face. "I think it's phenomenal," He says.

God. Everything was fine. Fair. Until the last page. Reasonable honestly. Then she froze. God. Because there was a drawing. Fair. A brand new drawing. Reasonable. Not hers. God. Definitely not hers. Fair. Just scribbles. Reasonable honestly. Lots of scribbles. God. Then one tiny stick figure. Fair. Then another tiny stick figure. Reasonable. Then a tiny circle. God. Everyone stared. Fair. Then Peanut pointed proudly.

I blushed at his words. "There's also something at the back. I added my own touch to it." He held my hand holding the necklace, and he slowly turned the necklace pendant over, and there I saw the word 'MINE.' Clawed boldly at the back. "You're not only my full moon, Amara Lively, you're also mine, my human mate," Connor said.

Azriel commanded in an utterly casual tone of voice, as if he were only showing a drawing of a natural landscape. Isolde, with trembling fingers, turned the paper to the second page. There, the strokes of the drawing were far more bold and wild. There appeared a sketch of Isolde sitting leaning back with her pair of plump legs forced wide apart. Azriel's head was depicted as buried between the mounds of Isolde's large breasts, as if nursing greedily there. Not stopping there, one of Azriel's hands in the drawing appeared to grope downward, with detailed fingers depicted as penetrating Isolde's sensitive vagina area.