Here is a new Drabble Prompt for you all. This one is going to run for 10 days or so, then I will move the new prompts to the weekends, as it will be easier to keep up on.
This weeks word is brush. As always, definition is your choice.
Happy writing!
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The picture haunted her. She had found it while hiking one day, a flash of white under the brush on the edge of the trail. Two faces looked back at her, one soft, gentle, eyes that danced, even in the still. The other was hard and cold, the same eyes, yet they did not dance. They were glacial. Who were these people, and why was their tattered image lying under the brush out in the middle of the trail? Turning the picture over she found a name. The picture was older, maybe from a decade ago. Could she find them?
He picked up the pencil, just how this one would turn out, he didn’t know but he knew he had to get something on the canvas before that beautiful face faded from his memory. Swiftly and deftly he sketched the outline, the lines came so easily, that indelible picture transferred to the canvas by the power of thought alone. His brush was loaded with paint, a colour wash for the background, this was going to be one painting he would never forget. The long wavy hair, the perfect nose, facial features given to her by the angels themselves. His girl.
She replaced the brush on her vanity and looked into the mirror. The scar on her forehead was faded, almost imperceptible. It had been 10 years ago today that she met him at a fundraiser for the center. 10 years had passed since her life changed as love lighted on her. The love was still about her. Since his death she had held and treasured it, kept it hidden so that the days would not fade its glory. His words from that first night came to her, and she was struck by the viable honesty.
“Why hide? Share your joy!”
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