AVA
“Your canvas is blank”
Cara says, peeking over my shoulder, her eyes narrowed as she stares at the wide expanse of white space, untouched by the dripping paintbrush in my hands.
I let out a sigh, a long shallow breath breaking past my lips. At the beginning of class, Mr Bennett, our painting instructor, scribbled down a prompt for all of us in class to follow and explained that he expected us to let out our creativity following what was written.
I, of course, couldn't have been more thrilled. The past few days had been hectic, and I'd longed for an outlet, and this was the perfect opportunity.
Or so I thought.
It's been almost an hour since class started and while everyone seems to be enthralled in their work, I've spent my time glancing between my canvas and the prompt.
Sereni
