- Bill Engleson | @billmelaterplea
- Sheilagh Lee | @SweetSheil
- Siobhan Muir | @SiobhanMuir
- Anne Chowdhury | @TwiAddictAnne
- Silver James | @SilverJames_
- Katheryn J. Avila | @katheryn_avila
- Louisa Bacio | @Lousiabacio
- Kelly Heinen | @Aightball
- Lizzie Koch | @Lizzie_Koch
- Barbe Crabtree | @ComeOnPeopl
- Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
Kel Heinen | @Aightball
Tina says: I loved this story -- first the dad who took the time to want to see his daughter's happy. The great job of changing it from what the reader would expect, a mother intervening between siblings, and showing a father's perspective was wonderful. It is a story I could imagine happening in my front yard, and I found it truly touching. An enjoyable and allover delightful read, and I can't wait to read more. Splendid!
Cara Michaels | @caramichaels
Tina says: This had such great interaction between the characters. The nuances that were touched read like a great sitcom. As a reader, I could feel the tension, and corresponding hostile response to the questions (coming from Richmond and being a hobby genealogist, there is nothing like getting someone's panties in a bunch then by bringing up one's personal history). I was able to connect with the tale and enjoy it. Great job!
Lizzie Koch | @Lizzie_Koch
Tina says: The imagery commanded my attention, and I could truly imagine the scene. I felt like I was sitting in the room watching it happen, and wanting to intervene, and save the poor victim. It prompted emotion! Excellent job!
Sweat ran down his spine, his body glistening with every aggressive stroke of the brush. Paint bled into the walls, unable to cover the memory he desperately wanted to erase. Buckets and gallons of paint seeped into his secret but still he continued, brush after brush as bristles frayed like his temper.
But the slate had to be clean, the walls bare, fresh and ready for his next work of art; always a blank canvas to open his mind and explore his demons. That’s what his therapist said, release his demons through his art. But he was never satisfied. The demons kept talking to him, whispering their loathing, mocking his aspirations.
At last, he could do no more. The unblemished white canvas was ready. His muse was ready. She sat on a lone wooden chair in the sparse room as he held his large palette, walking around her, inhaling her scent, studying her naked curves. He ran his fingers through her long golden hair, fanning out the strands around her milky shoulders.
There were no words as he began his art, releasing the jagged knife from under his palette, spraying his canvas in rich red as the demons cheered his work, silencing her gurgled screams. For now, his art briefly released him, his art lived as he watched crimson drip down the walls before it stopped and died.
Congratulations Winner Lizzie, Kel, and Cara! Don't forget to claim your badges and display them with pride. You certainly earned it!
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