My nightmares bleed through my fingers on the white canvas, but sometimes a dream sneaks in between. ~A.Gupta
Violet
“I don't know how you do it,” I turned toward the familiar voice. Daisy said, “You are seriously so talented, Violet. I still can't draw a perfect arc without erasing it a few times.”
‘Thankyou,' I smiled up at her. Daisy had been my friend since I joined the community classes. She was five four, and has black eyes with dark hair framing her face. And she was sweet. She always had something good to say to me. Unlike most people who treated me like I was disabled and shouldn’t be here learning art just because I couldn't speak— they think that I was a permanent mute— Only Daisy communicated and talked to me like a normal person, maybe it was more because her niece was one
