The Brush
The Unfinished Canvas.It was a bright Sunday in Seoul. The air was crisp, the grass was covered in morning dew and the birds were all taking flight. Lee Ha Na was sitting on the bench in front of her apartment complex gazing off into the sky waiting for an image of fascination to appear in her mind. Ha Na was an aspiring artist at Kirin Arts School, a school where she excelled in almost every way.
She sat watching the birds take flight, flying higher and higher, watching the branches sway in the light breeze and watching the people cross the street at a hurried pace to get to their destinations. Suddenly her paint brush hit the canvas thrashing paint all over, a vast canvas being torn apart by the harsh she was producing. Suddenly she stopped, almost as if she had lost herself for a moment. She looked at her canvas in awe and question.
Was this waht she had become? Beaten and shredded like the canvas in front of her which she had once touched so gently?
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