Miracles | 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔶

part eighteen

As the carriage bumped along the uneven road, Irina's nose wrinkled in disgust. The path had taken them through a less pleasant part of the countryside, where the stench of mud and animals hung heavily in the air. Irina tugged at her scarf, trying to block the smell.

"This is... unbearable!" she groaned dramatically, leaning as far away from the road as possible. "How do people even live like this?"

Mila, sitting beside her, couldn't help but chuckle at Irina's antics. "Oh come on, Irina. It's just a bit of mud and farm life. You'll survive."

Irina scowled, but Mila's laughter was infectious. Despite her initial irritation, Irina soon found herself giggling too, shaking her head. "You're too used to this, Mila."

Mila grinned, shrugging as she pulled out her sketchbook. "Maybe. But there's beauty even in the messiest of places. You just have to know how to see it."

As the carriage rolled forward, Mila began sketching the area around them—fields lined with tall, unruly grasses, patches of wildflowers blooming in the midst of the chaos, and the winding, uneven path that led them further away from the cities and deeper into the countryside.

Irina watched her with curiosity, her initial distaste fading as she became absorbed in Mila's sketching. There was a kind of peace in the way Mila's pencil moved across the paper, capturing the roughness of the world around them but turning it into something beautiful. The smelly road, the dirt, the weeds—it all transformed under Mila's hand into an image of simple elegance.

"How do you do that?" Irina asked softly after a while, her eyes fixed on the sketch. "I mean, how do you see the world like that?"

Mila paused, looking up at her. "Like what?"

Irina hesitated, then gestured towards the sketch. "You make it... look beautiful. Even the mud and the mess. I never thought it was possible."

Mila smiled gently. "That's what art is for me. It's a way to see the world differently. To find the beauty in things that most people overlook. It's not always about painting perfect flowers or grand buildings. Sometimes, it's about capturing the life in the dirt, the way the wind bends the grass, or how the light falls on a broken path."

Irina's expression softened as she took in Mila's words. She had always thought of art as something grand and unattainable, reserved for the elite, or something trivial that women shouldn't waste time on. But seeing Mila's simple yet powerful drawings, she realized there was something special about the way Mila saw the world.

"I never thought of it like that," Irina murmured, leaning in closer to get a better look at the drawing. "Maybe... maybe I was wrong."

Mila looked at her curiously. "Wrong about what?"

"About women being artists," Irina admitted, her voice quiet. "I always thought it wasn't something we should bother with. But seeing your work... I can see how important it is. And how beautiful it can be."

Mila's heart warmed at Irina's words. She hadn't expected to change anyone's mind, least of all Irina's, but it felt good to know that her art was helping her friend see things differently.

"Thank you," Mila said, her smile genuine. "That means a lot."

Irina nodded, her eyes still on the sketch. "Maybe you're right. Maybe there's more to life than I thought. And maybe... art isn't such a bad thing after all."

As they continued their journey, the smell of the road faded into the background, replaced by the sound of laughter and the scratch of Mila's pencil as she continued to draw the world around them, showing Irina that even in the dirtiest of places, there was beauty to be found...