“What happened to the girl?” she couldn’t keep herself from asking. She heard the curiosity and concern in her own voice.
“I don’t know if it will be right to say that it is remarkable,” she said. Shaking her head, she looked at the sketch again. “But it IS remarkable. Different. Distressing. But still remarkable.”
His dark eyes met hers and she saw it, the shuttered expression; a mask he all of a sudden decided to wear so that no one could even get a sniff of what was actually running through his mind.
So it was pointless to ask her. It would feel nothing less than using his own hands to rub salt on his fresh wounds.
Somehow he found an escape in sketching, a medium to keep going and get through one day after the other without letting his dark thoughts consume him completely……….