Susan sat down in front of the canvas, twirling the paintbrush between her fingers as she thought about what to paint. She watched the skyline, spotted with trees, and tried to imagine what kinds of wonderful things she would wish to see among them. She liked to paint wondrous things. Things of great beauty and imagination, that one would love to see, but knew they never would. That was what she wanted to fill her life with. Incredible, beautiful things.
As she set to paint, brief thoughts about her life flitted through her mind. She had a wonderful house, out on her own, with plenty of space for her to be. But she had no one else to live with her. She was an only child, and her parents had passed away a long time ago, and she had never found a husband. She didn't mind being alone. She remembered back when she bought the house, how people questioned why she needed so much space for her self. But she just smiled and did as she pleased. She knew what would make her happy, and she worked towards that.
Her brush danced across the page before her in long, graceful strokes, hardly needing her attention. She had been painting for as long as she could remember. She could hardly remember a time when she had had to focus on her art. She knew there was a time when she had. But now a days, she could practically have her eyes close, and she knew that her art would shine through. It was a part of her that could never be removed.
She knew to an on looker, her art would appear strange. Not the images themselves, but simply the way in which she created it. Her brush glided along the canvas, never leaving a mark behind, as she never dipped the brush in paint. And yet she could see the image so clearly. In the distance, far beyond her canvas on her deck, light twisted and turned in the air, stretching and contorting to her will. Her painting came to life, in more ways then one, as she commanded the colors themselves to do her bidding.
She looked up from her canvas and watched the skyline once more. She saw the images in her mind more clearly now. Birds climbed from the trees to meet great and powerful beasts of the sky. Mythical creatures danced along the treetops, leaping easily from branch to branch. The stars themselves began to swirl together to form bodies that moved and talked, and came to interact with the other beings that Susan created. She smiled to herself as she watched them dance together, knowing that she was the one who created these things.
As her brush came to rest, slowly the things she created faded away, though she could still see them in her mind's eye. She had painted the day away yet again without even realizing it. She stood up and stretched, only just realizing how hungry she was.
"I'll be back tomorrow," she whispered to her canvas, and walked inside to get dinner.
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