【Novel】Drawing Happiness

[白鹿 11]

the following story and picture are my senior-high-period works.

Friends all call her “artist.”

From her point of view, she regards herself only as a translator, analyzing and transforming the emerging and realized feeling into another from on the paper.

Or she is more like what is said in《The Selfish Gene》, a machine which is genetically programmed. The only different is that here, her boss is Feeling.

When Feeling has prompted up, she will draw. She would not doubt if there is any affiliation between her and feeling due to Dawkins’s theory, because she loves drawing as well.

Her house is not a gallery, and she doesn’t sell paintings, either.

Her paintings only appear on the birthday cards to friends and on that wooden box which she gave to herself. ”Feeling could never be sold.” She said. But her friends thought compared with other high-hats, a true lover of paintings and drawing is more eligible to the title of an artist.

That day, she looked especially radiant, which was found first by her friends, of course.

Under her friends’ interrogation, she still stuck to her principle, not telling them frankly.“Humans can fall in love, painters are humans, so painters can fall in love,” she said, with a tender voice, like that of a first grader reading out texts in class.

“Wow~”Girls immediately became bazoos, asking everything about “him” from his looks, height, personalities to others. They scrambled to act as her strategist. Surrounded by her buzzing friends, she grabbed her cuff, could do nothing but blush and titter.

She laid on the meadow. Her eyes ware close. But she know that there was him beside hers, except the air.

It was so quiet in entire Park. Just like there was a promise had been made between the little couple and the whole world.

It was the first time when she was so eager to pure out all the brimful feeling from her mind.

That was a starry night. She sat in front of the desk, grabbing a piece of paper, and froze before she wrote－

What kind of feeling is this?

Just like an experienced interpreter suddenly came across a word never heard of, she even didn’t know which color should be use to describe the warmth and relief of snuggling in his arms! She decided to take a rest, and when tomorrow comes, the dawn sunshiny must sift the perfect vision into her mind.

Being still on the meadow in the park, she was still accompanied not only by air. He reached out his hand to her: “What is the color of happiness?” “I...I don’t know...”She stretched her hand, but only holding air. She opened her eyes bounce, rubbed her coldish hands: “It’s a dream...”Crawling back into the sheet , but the empty meadow just emerged as she closed her eyes.

She was so frighten, dialing to him.

Though it was 2 o’clock in the morning, the boy who had just written the paper still patiently said innumerable times of “I love you” and comforted her to sleep.

The sunlight sprinkled on her face didn’t sift out any color she wants, but the warmth reminded her that boy accompaniedby her ear at dawn.

Just heard that there was an important paper he had to hand over yesterday. For her disturbing to him, she felt sorry, but sweet. Decided to thank him for his patience and consideration, she dialed the phone again, but was never answered.

“Maybe I will call him in the evening,” She thought, “He must be in class.”

Days passed one after another. But she could only listen to the repeated monotonous machine rings after dialing.

“Hasn’t he sent me to sleep the previous night?...”She was desperate, beginning to doubt weather that was just a sweet dream before a nightmare...

What had left by him was only a empty meadow and a cell phone number with nothing but rings.

“What!!?”Friends were more shocked than she, coming up with all possible conjectures, included the theory of Dawkins that the male tends to diffuse gene far and wide because of his lower genital cost...(Of course she was gagged right away directly and the topic was changed.)

Like this way, being embraced by girls, her eyes swelled red for a whole week.

After calming down, she brought her drawing board back to the meadow, and started to collect those memories of that day. From the sky, the verdures to the dewdrops, she believed that something was sure to be left once it was there.

Her painting was finished. Under the blue sky, who lying on the middle of the meadow was her, and smiling.

[白鹿 11]

no one read my story (crying...)

[咬著檸檬草的貓 10]

Good story, iwould give u an A for it lol

[白鹿 11]

Good story, iwould give u an A for it lol

Thx XD.

With this exitation, I guess I would face to tomorrow more bravely(H)

[咬著檸檬草的貓 10]

^^ CHEERS!

(since i read urs .. go read mine^^ lol)