A blank sheet of paper. Canvas and paints. Picturesque nature in front of her. Silence. Just a breath of warm breeze, he childishly rustled the unsuccessfully attached paper.

She looked thoughtfully into the distance. She has nowhere to rush, she has plenty of free time. She thought how to draw nature, because every second, every color fights.

Gamma of colors, magic.

And now she will perform a miracle, transferring inanimate paints to the canvas. Under her skillful of paint will come to life. White will turn into a gray bird soaring across the sky, and black into a dark red sunset.

She is not an artist, a simple lover.

She is not a poetess, she just writes poetry. And hesitate to show them. And when asked, she wants to hide in order not to see the reaction. She is afraid to find out that she is not talented, and is simply wasting her energy in vain.

The brush gently draws lines, sometimes freezes in anticipation of inspiration. Draws patterns, driven only by the thought of the artist.

And soon a pattern, a silhouette, appears on a sheet clean as snow. Holding her breath, she draws the last line and freezes.

The picture is ready.

She smiles fairly, wearily runs her hand over her forehead, leaving a mark on the paint. Today the work is completed.

You can pack up and go home.

Into an empty, lonely house. Where no one will meet her.

A house where only her paintings live, and her poems are quietly heard.

***

Wringing her fingers before playing the piano, the girl looked sadly at the open window, where the children had fun, enjoying the last free days in front of the school. She also wanted to go out and play with them, have fun, but she needs to repeat two classical parts before the concert in which she takes part. All summer vacation she only did what she did.

Alone. It's empty. Boring.

Music did not let her get bored, the girl liked to compose a melody, live music, write notes that lay on her heart. Music saved her from loneliness.

But at such moments as now, she really wanted someone nearby who could understand her perfectly.

Beloved person.

***

Light and weightless. Like a feather in the wind, she soared among the audience who came to her performance. They watched with fascination over her flowing movements, admiring her.

Grace and femininity.

Passion and innocence. Everything flowed into her fragile body. Her black and red tinted hair danced to the beat of the violins that performed the ballet part.

The girl has been practicing ballet for a long time, she loved this type of art, he supplemented it, making her forget that the house is empty and lonely.

After graduation, the audience rejoiced, their hearts shouted that it would be necessary to return only to see the art of ballet performed by such a ballerina again.

She bowed, thanked, received flowers and congratulations, she herself, after leaving the hall, went home, knowing that it was empty and lonely.

No one is waiting for her at home.

Opening the doors of her apartment, going into a dark room, she went into the bedroom without light, without undressing, lay down on the bed, and closed her eyes.

- Another empty day has passed. Will tomorrow be the same?

***

Endless empty days flew ahead, changing the seasons, until they settled on a small yellow leaf that, alarmed by the wind, descended smoothly to the ground.

Their life did not change, it was all the same. Empty, monotonous and lonely.

Everything changed that day when an ad appeared on a blackboard near the student campus:

Please respond!

We are recruiting students for the play. Casting will be today, 18:00, in the assembly hall. Come don't be shy. We will make you like it!

to be continued