My useless talent

My useless talent

My brush was moving toward the paper with the rustle. Have you ever left a footprint on untouched-white snow? Or have you ever felt something similar? Well, at the moment, I have. My brushstroke intrude the sanctuary of shimmering champagne powder. Starting from one black dot on the pure-white Chinese paper, I became a young artist, perfectly delving into the plunder of white and black lines, monochrome images of old trees, bamboo, rocks, and smell of peace that dark ink stick conveys.

Ding-dong-

The bell rang. As if I woke up from a deep dream, I intensely grabbed my clothes and bag; I cleaned up brushes, ink, and paper. It was almost 9’o clock. Curfew was imminent.

I hurried. I dashed through the door. I was about to put the shoes on.

Then, someone touched my shoulder.

Did I know him? No.

“Why?”

“Did you take your cellphone?”

Did I? No. 

Cause I am the master of throwing my cellphone away: boldly, without hesitation.

Luckily, my fame helps me with getting my phone back.

No,

Frankly speaking, 

It's not my fame but people's warm hearts.

Warm hearts of people who invest their time in look after one's phone.

Master?

No, I'm just a wanderer who daily eagers to find the phone.

painting of one courageous man departing for the long journey
https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/m%C3%B6nch-am-meer/KwEv_TMiJhn5kA?hl=en-GB&avm=2