𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓

⁴⁸merci, julian

clementine

The dull ambience of the airport keeps my mind at peace, the graphite of my pencil instinctively moving me through the texture of my sketchbook. Vague shapes become a face, rough shades become the values, and the lines turn into the bodies of the people I'm drawing.

The pencil becomes my extension, moving as if knowing where to go just by itself. Holding it against paper feels natural, sketching lines that would eventually become something feels normal; like the extension of my life that sits between the pages of my sketchbooks, or trapped between the paint and canvas.

When I look up, the couple is still sat in the same position, conversing with their backs at me, unaware of their pose that has taken form on my sketchbook.

It's been thirty minutes since I sat down and I've just been filling the time by drawing people that are, like me, waiting for their flight to start boarding passengers.

So far, I've drawn a girl intensely reading a book, with such horrible posture that I subconsciously straightened her back a bit when I drew her, and a couple sitting in a bench, talking as the world turned and passed around them.

Just as I start to look around for someone else to draw, someone pokes my shoulder, taking my attention away and to a little boy sat behind me of deep russet skin, a yellow beanie hat, and a curious look to his childlike eyes.

"Why are you drawing people?" He asks, looking at the people I've sketched before innocently looking back up at me.

Taken aback by his forwardness, I awkwardly laugh. "Uhm... I needed some time to kill, so I just... drew them," I answered honestly, receiving nothing but a blank stare as if he's expecting more. "And um... I was just looking for someone else to draw..."

His face lights up before he jumps up on his seat and walks over to the seat in front of me. "Cool, can you draw me?" He requests, squatting on the metal bench and looking at me with enthusiasm etched in his young features.

I shrug, figuring he's got some time to spare as well. "Um, sure," I flip to the next page and begin looking back and forth his face and my sketch page. "Where are your parents?" I ask as I draw a circle in the upper half of the page, looking back at the shape of his face and how I might be able to emulate it on paper.

He shrugs. "My mom fell asleep and my dad's reading," He answers, trying to stay still as he sees me furrow my brows in concentration. "I'm Julian, by the way, I'm twelve,"

I nod, outlining where his jaws and sides of the face would be on the paper. "I'm Clementine, turning twenty-two a few days from now,"

"Clementine! That's so cool. I had a friend called Olive once," He answers quickly before silence falls between us.

I take my time sketching out his features, careful to make his paper copy just as smiley as he is in real life. "Where are you and your parents headed?" I ask, noticing how he's smiling less as the silence ensues.

Immediately, he's enthused by me striking up a question first. "Oh, we're going to London for Christmas. My grandma lives there and my dad says she's a bit sick, so we're gonna go be with her for Christmas and take care of her until we come back," He tells me, unaware of how upsetting the situation actually is. "She got this dog last year, his name's Rocco, and I'll be meeting him for the first time we get to her house," He rambles on as I continue sketching him.

"She lives in this house called a boogalow, and it's right by this river that my grandpa used to take me fishing at, but I haven't been there since he went away two years ago. I told my dad I wanted to fish for Christmas, but he said we could just skate over the river because it'll be frozen,"