𝙋𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙐𝙇𝙐𝙈 | 𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚 | 𝙈. 𝙊'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖

5| 𝙀𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙙

┅╍━━🕷️🧿🕸️━━╍┅

(𝙑𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙬𝙖'𝙨 𝙋.𝙊.𝙑)

(October 2022)

Sky blue. A dot of cobalt mixed with a dollop of white paint on a veneered wooden palette still bearing a spectrum of dried old paint crusts. The soft camel hairs on the tip of the brush dragged out pigment from the shining drop of cobalt and blended it with the white. The hue deepened as the swirls grew less distinct. The brush left uneven patches of blue as it was tapped against the palette, the shades varying in gradation to be used as the artist desired.

The brush moved back and forth, spreading the splotch of blue over the little bumps and depressions on the surface. A few gentle strokes later, a sky was born on the wall.

A little seal plushie sat in the middle of the nest of crumpled white bedsheets. Vishwa's seven-year-old sister had named the plushie Pom because he looked like a 'Pom'. So Pom he was, a silent sentinel who watched over the pile of dirty clothes spilling over from the edges of her laundry basket, the stacks of organic chemistry books leaning onto the ones about arcane magic that Vishwa had 'borrowed' from the Sanctum when Uncle Wong wasn't paying attention and the wrappers of take-out lying near the full waste basket. One of MJ's leather jackets was draped across the swivel chair, and a few tubes of Faye's matte lipglosses lay scattered across her dresser. Garen's old shades sat on her shelf collecting dust, the spider weaving a web across it did so while watching its reflection on blue and pink tinted glass.

Vishwa remembered when Pom the seal's felt was the same shade as the sky she was painting. Back when he still had two giant black beads for eyes instead of the frayed string on the right, back when he still smelled like blueberries instead of ashes, smoke, and dirt.

•••••

(June 2011)

First day of their summer break. The queue outside the Chinatown Funzone Arcade wrapped around the block, leaving a fourteen-year-old Vishwa to practically melt faster than a popsicle. Strands of her long black hair tied into a bun for comfort stuck to the sides of her face from her sweat, her glasses kept slipping down the bridge of her nose. She could feel her palm drenching the four dollar bills in her pocket, courtesy of the lady whose lawn she had mowed the previous day.

Vishwa bounced on the balls of her feet, restlessness seizing control of every muscle fibre in her body, spurred on by the humidity as she peeked at the security guard through the gaps between heads. Sure enough, the line moved slower than the traffic lurching along right beside them in a procession of sirens, horns, and irate drivers yelling at each other.

She clicked her tongue and took a sip from the can of Pepsi in her hand, her eyes focusing on the pedestrians walking by. A hand reached for her aluminium can and she handed it over without even looking. The owner of the hand was a tall, lanky Hispanic teen about the same age as her looking just as annoyed as she was.

"It's been two hours," MJ said, glancing at his watch. He emptied the can and chucked it into a nearby bin, landing it in neatly. Vishwa applauded when it did, and he did a little bow.

"Should we go to Spielzone?" He asked.

"I was thinking the same thing. But they don't have a cute plushie claw machine at Spielzone."