Rose's fingertips caressed the

soft bristles of the brush. The

canvas glared at her, daring

her to ruin its beauty.

She dipped the brush into

a bucket of paint and

tried her best to not shake

her hands.

She held her breath as

she colored in the blazing

sky; puffs of dynamite

filled the canvas from all

corners.

She dropped the brush, let

it tumble out of her fingertips

and onto the new carpet. She could

already hear the landlord's

voice a miles away and into

the future.

She reached up and touched

the canvas.

She just wanted to feel beautiful.

--

The sequel has been created on my profile. Please, if you ever have the time, check it out. It'd mean the world to me. Thank you!