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104: Comforted by the third Brother

SCARLETT

I hugged my box to my chest and walked through the gates of my favorite art store.

In all my life, at least the years I’ve spent loving this art store, I’ve never walked in without a huge grin. Well, except today. I’d been coming here for so long that I’d watched the middle aged owners grow grey hair and become grandparents, it felt like home and that’s why it’s the place that came to mind when I needed an escape.

Unlike other days, I didn’t sit behind a canvas and pick up a paintbrush, I just sat solemnly in a quiet corner and wondered how my life became such a shit show in a matter of months. A life that I’d been building tirelessly and painstakingly for years.

When the owners noticed I was sulking, they sent a sever over with a cup of coffee and a refill jar and I could only thank them with a weak smile, I was scared that I’d start bawling my eyes out if I spoke a word.

As I sipped the flavorless black coffee, my life seemed even blander than it.

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