Anywhere Out of This World: The Drawing Board
by CelesteAvonne


The day after Halloween Dawn left the Flat before anyone was awake. Her goal had been to go to one of those big gothic English cathedrals. Even though she was not Catholic, nor remotely religious, she had wanted to light a candle in church. As a prayer. Like Maya suggested, she wanted to celebrate the lives of those lost.

But, lots of Catholic folk had turned up for exactly the same thing. Given the cataclysmic loss of lives the world witnessed the previous week, Dawn reasoned that she should not have been surprised.

She was surprised, though. She felt a little left out. Everyone was grieving for someone. Everyone had unanswered questions. Everyone, but not Dawn. She knew the answers, but couldn’t share.

Rather than fight the mourning hordes, Dawn slipped away. She wandered a while, half-blind and breathless as she always felt in the presence of the ancient buildings of London. Her feet finally led her back to the Temple of the Sisters.

Dawn found a play ground across Mercer Street. From it, she had a clear view of the crumbling façade of the temple. She perched on the edge of a cracked rubber swing, took out a ballpoint pen and began a sketch in the palm of her hand.

With her pen, she outlined with bold strokes the shape of the chapel, then filled in the edges with feathery cross hatches. The image came to life in her hand – the light, shape and shadows forming into the most amazingly life-like rendition.

Dawn drew a border of spiky grass along the fat of her thumb. Into the creases of her lifeline, she traced the sun’s light lancing through clouds. When she finished, Dawn sat back to admire her flawless design. She closed her hand and the design winked out like a candle quickly snuffed.

She smiled. Dawn splayed her fingers wide, stretching the image. And as she stared at the perfectly wrought edges, a tiny sparrow flickered into view.

Dawn closed her fist. She looked around at the quiet street, thinking that perhaps there were magics afoot. Dawn opened her trembling hand again. The little bird was still there, bathing its feathers in the dusty sideyard of the Temple. Dawn licked the fingers of her right hand and scrubbed them into her left palm until she had completely obliterated her freaky little cartoon.


After that day, Dawn began to compulsively sketch. She bought a Bienfang Sketch Pad and a pack of Oriole No. 2 drawing pencils. Nothing had happened yet, not like it had the day she visited the Temple. But she kept trying nonetheless.


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