"First you dip your brush lightly in water and make light confident strokes on the paper. Then you dab your brush in colour and follow the water strokes." Your brush caressing the paper like a tender lover; colour swirling on the canvas, dancing to your tunes. I watched as your large fingers guided the small brush around with such dexterity that I thought your hand was shivering.
I watched as the colours trickled through the path you made for them. I gazed as shapes began to appear unwittingly.

I wondered how it would be to be the colour at the tip of your brush; to be gently guided across an empty dance floor. And then I'd dance. And when I'm tired, I'd rest. And as I rested, I'd become part of a beautiful landscape.

General State of Affairs

She sat with her feet crossed in front of her, staring at a blank wall. There was a lot to be done but this blank wall was too attractive. She decided she deserved to stare at the blank wall for everything that was done. Little did she know, the blank wall was built wrong and had been tilting all this while. She doesn't know it yet, but that wall is going to fall. And she won't know what hit her.

PonyTale

Bright round dark globes outlined by long curling lashes stared at me, transfixed. When I looked at them, lush pink lips parted into a smile that melted my heart. I couldn't help but smile back. Hands started flapping. The little pony on top of the head bobbed, resembling a silken water fountain.
"Hi!" I said, instinctively turning on the coochicoo lingo. "whoozis little girl! Such a pwetty fountain you have on your head. Wassyour name, baby?" The mother came into my line of vision.
"His name is Aakash. He's a boy." She smiled at me radiantly.
"Oh!" I said, "but he's got a pony."  "Yeah. It's a genuine mistake."

Talk about gender stereotyping.