Three windows in a white wall allowed the drab light of a gray afternoon into the classroom. You might have expected to find desks worktables or computers, but most of the floor space here was taken up by twelve duroplastic easels positioned in a circle.
Rael Carrins, a tall string bean of a man with wings of gray in his dark hair, walked among his students, inspecting their work. “Well done,” he said to Savra Najen, clapping her on the shoulder as he passed her station.
Anna wasn"t quite ready for him to see what she had created.
The painting was fairly simplistic in her estimation: just a ring of flames around a black centre, like you were staring into the eye of a tornado made of fire. She wasn"t sure what had inspired her to paint that of all things – she usually went for landscapes
