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| PC: Kent Bonham |
He was a lonely boy. He was a dreamer. He dreamt of places, of castles, of dragons. He could never show his dreams to anyone, since he felt he wasn’t good at writing or drawing.
One evening, while he sat alone on a stone at the edge of the lake, with a book and a pen, staring far at the green lands and the sky beyond. He thoughtlessly doodled on that notebook, without realizing what he was drawing.
After an hour, when he looked down to close the book, he realized that he drew his dream.
Talents are always hidden
This post is written for Friday Fictioneers
I must say I loved your post. I wrote mine about my autistic grand son, because the prompt reminded me of his art work.
ReplyDeleteHe too, dreams of dragons.
:-) That is a beautiful comment Olden times
DeleteGod bless your grandson
I am glad that he found his talent too :)
DeleteSometimes you just have to let it flow...
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree :)
DeleteThanks for dropping by Dale