22. Sarah: Brushstrokes of hope

Sarah’s Point of view:

As I walked home, my heart raced with the thrill of creation. Each step felt lighter, buoyed by the vibrant colors still dancing in my mind. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the streets, and I couldn’t help but smile at the world around me. The trees looked greener, the air felt fresher, and even the distant sounds of traffic blended into a symphony of life.

My phone rang, jolting me from my reverie. Sharon’s name flashed on the screen. I hesitated for a moment, nerves creeping in. What could she want? But I took a deep breath and answered, eager to hear her thoughts about my first day.

“Hi Sarah, it’s Sharon from the art studio,” she said, her voice warm and enthusiastic. “I had to call you.”

“Hi!” I replied, my heart racing. “What’s up?”

“Your painting today was incredible. Have you had classes before?” she asked, genuinely curious.

I smiled, pride swelling in my chest. “No, I haven’t. I’m actually a beginner.”

Sharon’s tone shifted to