I've written this short story for Thursday Tales. I like the idea of dipping into longer prose and this photo provides lovely inspiration. The artist is Einshine at DeviantArt.
Amy Lee hated the white walls in her father’s office. Sometimes, she waited for hours staring blankly at the blinds. The sunlight was visible and teased her. Saturdays were most unpleasant here, she thought. She watched the stone faced people file in gray suits. They didn’t smile, laugh, or talk. She stuck out her tongue at them. The gray suits marched in anger and scolded her.
Secretary Wan was very kind to the young girl. “Come here little sun,” she laughed. She coaxed Amy Lee towards a glass table and magic marker.
“This is a special, magic marker. You can imagine anything with your mind and put it here.”
“I wish I could paint my father’s walls,” Amy Lee sighed.
“Use your imagination,” Wan instructed. Amy Lee took the blank notebook and marker. She laid her elbows on the cold, glass table and noticed her own reflection. The room did not inspire her. Restless, she swung her legs back and forth and banged into the table. Secretary Wan rushed over to her young guest.
“Little Sun, what’s wrong?” Wan raised her brows in horror. Amy Lee didn’t answer but crossed her little arms.
“I don’t feel like drawing! I want to go out and play,” Amy Lee shouted. Her voice echoed and stung Wan.
“You can’t leave the lobby,” Wan informed her. Amy Lee’s eyes grew thick and blue and tears began falling down.
“Don’t cry Little Sun. I am a very good artist and shall make something for you.” Amy Lee dried up her tears and tugged at her skirt.
“Please draw for me! I’d like that very much.” Wan leaned in and pressed the magic marker against paper. Amy Lee gasped as a yellow butterfly flew from her pen. It was sweet and yellow like her shirt. She framed the butterfly around pretty, pink roses and green stems. She filled the whole paper with butterflies and flowers. Amy Lee danced in a beautiful meadow of art.
“Can I keep it,” Amy Lee exclaimed.
“Of course, Little Sun. And I have one more surprise in store.” Amy Lee hopped at the word surprise. She giggled and clasped her hands against her face. Secretary Wan rolled out a projector and filled the white walls with beautiful art.
Her father had emerged and glanced at Secretary Wan. “I hope my little Amy Lee has been no trouble.”
“Oh no, Mr. Lee. She’s been very sweet. Little Sun and I have spent the day making art.”