"Maybe it was because she called me out; stuck in this small corner protecting my small slice of nothing."-- Parzival, Ready Player one
Warnings: none
*167 words(BELOW)*
"Hey! Back off!" the young boy hissed, clutching his sketchbook closer and tighter to his chest as he glared back at his father.
"Son, it'll be okay. Posting them online will get them better exposure than just showing them off to your friends," the boy's father spoke gently.
"What if no one likes my art?" the boy cried, wiping the salty tears from his cheeks.
"Well then, we can put you in an art school, and you can improve. You can't always care about what other people think, Gabriel."
"But what if I can't improve? What if I suck and get WORSE!??" fresh tears drew down the boy's cheeks, and he turned away. "No, I can't risk it."
"I can't risk losing my small slice of nothing. This sketchbook is all I have," Gabriel resolved.
"But you could risk it all, and get more back," his father explained. "The reward greatly outways the risks, Gabrial."
The boy sat with his father's words for a moment before replying.
"Okay, I trust you. Where do I start?"
YOU ARE READING
Gripping the Lines
ActionThe writer scolded herself. "How could you be so stupid? I mean, to think anyone would want to actually read this? What's wrong with you?" "Nothing!" she defended. "It's perfectly normal to do this! Writing is often used to express opinions and fact...
