In a dim room all was quiet except for the small sounds of brushstrokes as the brush shakingly
danced on the canvas.
It was a moderately blank canvas.
The boy grunmbled, hands quivering.
The boy immediately got up and proceded to dunk his hands into some buckets of paints. Then, in
frustration, splashed paint all over the canvas. The canvas was sullied along with the queit room.
After having calmed down considerably, all that could be heard was panting.
Sobbing soon followed sue.
After that a loud slam shook the room, it was the door bursting open.
"What's the matter!"
A worried tall man yelled.
The man saw the aftermath of the boy's little tantrum.
Slowly the man took some steps closer.
"Son, what is this?"
Ever so simple minded the boy's dad replied,
"Haha! See you do have a talent son! In fact why don't we go bring this over to the art museum in
the city and let them have a look?"
"Dad, no it's... It's terrible. I... I'm no artist."