روايات وقصص ضمن Vent Drawings

“Hey buddy! How are you?” He bit his lip, suddenly shy. "I'll miss you, Sister! Come back soon.” Before I could reply, he turned to Xeros and handed him something– more like, pushed something into his hand. Before we could ask anything, he darted away. Xeros carefully unfolded the paper, and I found myself peeking over his arm in curiosity. But never could have prepared me for what I found: it was a drawing , with me, Xeros and Adam. Adam had drawn himself smiling in the center, clutching both our hands as we ran through the rain and storms together.

There, hidden behind a curtain of weeping carbon-fiber vines, was a small, dilapidated shack. "What is this?" I asked. "The only place the grid can't see," Xander said. He pulled back the vines, and I saw a wall covered in jagged, hand-drawn charcoal sketches. I gasped. The sketches weren't of buildings or machines. They were of us. There was a drawing of a man and a woman standing in a mountain of gold; a drawing of a girl with a wooden ring; a drawing of a man with orange eyes holding a woman in the rain.

He had found a pad of paper and a dull pencil in a kitchen drawer. He was drawing. I stood in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat. I didn't want to disturb him. I watched the way his hand moved—it was fluid, confident, but with that slight, human tremor he had inherited from the resonance. He finished the sketch and turned the paper toward the light. It wasn't a blueprint. It wasn't a map. It was a drawing of a single, wild iris growing out of a crack in a rock. It was messy. The lines were unoptimized. It was, in every sense of the word, imperfect.

she said. “I don't think he dropped any clu……” I said and then remembered that I had found some weird drawing in Alex’s house, “I think he might have,” I said, clapping my hands and quickly rushing to the living room where my bag was lying on the ground. I took the drawing papers from my bag and laid them on the dining table. “This is some weird ass drawing?” Veronica said while studying the drawing closely. “I know right,” I said looking at it as well, “I saw them in his wardrobe and they were previously not there,”

" It could be anywhere." "Shit." I took a closer look at the drawing. Even though it was a somewhat lousy drawing, I could still make out some really cool detail. Snaking around the desks feet were some intricate designs, one that looked like very old but beautiful non the less. From the angle it was drawn, the desk had a drawer or two to store probably important files or document. " Shit." "Wait." Zoe called, causing me to stop cussing. A moment of silence passes between us before she shrieked like she just stumbled on the world's great treasure. " I got it."

I always lock it before leaving the premises. “But I… Did I…” Brushing it off, I pull the mini door open, and yelp when a heap of papers rains on me as if waiting for me to open it all along. I stay still for a moment, just blinking at the drawings. They’re ugly exaggerated images of me; big head, messy hair, thin legs… I’m as tiny as a doll, while a big guy towers over me, his pants down, and I’m choking on his… What?! My heart drops.

Nicole. “Heidi…” my heart softened as I dropped to my knees beside her. “I’m gonna put them back, I promise. I just wanted mum to stay here for a while.” One of her drawings rested ont he table too, almost covered by mum’s scarf. I pulled it from under there. It wasn’t the best picture but I could tell it was two older women with a child in between them. One of the women’s hair was done with a yellow pencil while the other was black, the child had tiny dots around her head to imitate hair, but what they all had in common was the yellow circles hovering over their heads and the triangle wings.

A small drawing desk in the corner, crayons scattered across it, a few papers with colorful scrawls. I stepped in slowly. On the wall, drawings were taped up. A child's drawings — a house with a triangular roof, a sun in the corner with rays drawn as straight lines, a tree with round red fruit. Then I saw it. One drawing in the middle. Three figures standing hand in hand. The small one in the middle, in a dress with long hair. A woman on the left. On the right, a man in a black suit.

I've waisted hours and hours making sure it looks exactly like him, now it's come back to bite me in the ass. In that drawer there are over ten drawings. My favorite ones. Over the years I've burned most of the drawings but those are special. They are the best... and the sickest ones. I didn't want to bring them with me in case someone might see them, but it was worse. "Oh, shit," I repeat again, because I don't know what else to say. Kingsley is going to do something to fuck me over because of them and of that I'm sure. I swallow and pick up my phone with my shaky hands. There are three missed videocalls from him and suddenly another one comes in. I answer. King's face is in a scowl now.

He begins. What he makes over the next hour is not any drawing I have ever seen from him before. It is the city. All of it. The valley and the river and the anchor formation and the buildings and Vael's notebooks on the wall and Rael reading the stone and Neva at the table and the living arch at the entrance and the cliff face and the specific amber of Mireth's late afternoon — all of it on one page, not in perspective, not in any conventional spatial relationship, but in the relationship of frequency. The things that are most strongly connected in the anchor system closest to each other on the page regardless of their physical distance. The things that are peripheral in the formation at the