100 words x 365 days
The canvas held the tears of a thousand tales, each one painted with the hopes and dreams that faded away. Stark white, the paper waited for her to add the curves and lines that would bring her back from the pits of hell, but the little artist forgot to breathe. As the tears rolled down her cheeks, she used her personal sadness to moisten the brush. Without color on the tip, when her wand hit the canvas, the darkness consumed the painting, and once again, with every smile she drew, her own faded until the light in her vibrant soul diminished.
A.J. Luna
