Hope.

There were grey lines all over the page, once bleached white. Lines in tandem, criss crossing each other, patternless and drab, an ugly hue of black filling the negative white space of the said page. And she stared at it for 15 full minutes. Another 15 minutes later, it sat on her study desk, isolated from the other beautiful paintings in the showroom. She blew away the dust from her table before setting the painting down, diving the painting through the dust cloud. Carefully, she stepped back, to see if the positioning was right & after few alterations, she wiped her dusty hands on her red velvet dress. The low neck dress eased into the contour of her body, enhancing her curves & showing off her smooth long legs. The blood red velvet matched her red lipstick, now a little smudged & her dangling earrings that rested just a little above her silver trinket necklace. She ran her fingers through her curly brown hair and ruffled them a bit as she sauntered into her kitchen to make herself the cup of tea she’d been craving, thinking about a song that would aptly lace the laminated sheet of grey lines. With just the right amount of sugar in her green Lilly tea, she satisfactorily smiled at the cup of steaming, sweet smelling liquid that always reminded her of the way her small little legs ran into the house as her mother called out to her sisters and her for tea. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, the cup of tea in her hand. Daylight had almost faded & the sound of cicadas enlivened the atmosphere slowly. The steam from the cup rose like a whisp, a thick white curl & disappeared into the surrounding.
Her name was Hope and she was looking at her most prized possession now: Desolation.

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One thought on “Hope.

  1. This was very informative. I have been reading your blog alot over the past few days and it has earned a place in my bookmarks.

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