In the pencil cup stood an arrangement of colours. Milly pulled out the blue to colour the sky. She danced her fingers around the pencils until she stopped on a beautiful green. She used the yellow and the red. Each colour adding to the picture Milly was creating. Milly stopped to admire the way the sunlight was shining through the pencils. Most of the room was dark and full of shadows with the occasional sliver of sunlight peaking through. She pushed the thick red framed glasses up her nose. Her glasses were too big for her, the lenses caused her brown freckles to look much larger than they are. Originally her mothers, she hated the way the other kids at school would make fun of her for them. They couldn't afford much so Milly had to use her mothers glasses. They weren't exactly the right type of glasses for her but they were better than nothing, or so her family thought. Milly pulled the orange pencil out of the cup; her green eyes grew as she looked at it. She started scribbling away. Milly loved the sound of the pencils on the paper, she listened to the rhythmic scraping sound as she coloured in another orange. Using the brown, she coloured in the trunk if the tree. She thought for a moment, "What could I add to this picture?" Pulling a blind back, she gazed out the window to draw what she sees. She got out the brown again, and then the gray. She kept drawing and colouring. Time seemed to not exist as Milly quickly ripped another colour from the white cup. A man walks up behind her, her father. He's heavy set in a white long sleeved shirt. Tired from doing farm work all day, he sets his big hands on the small girls shoulders. A smile crosses his face, and his eyes crinkle as he looks down at Milly's picture, "What are you drawing, child?"
"I'm Drawing Mommy!" Milly grabs the light brown pencil again, this time adding the finishing touch, "She's flying!" One brown line, one brown line going from the tree to Mommy. She finishes making the rope thicker. Milly looks up at her Fathers shocked face, "She's outside flying. I wish she would look at me!" Her father gasps and rushes out the door toward the tree, leaving Millie alone inside, confused at the exchange, "Maybe," She mutters, "he didn't like my picture..."
