A table
An easel
Watercolor paper.
A feminine hand and a horsehair brush, streaking colors and blending shapes.
Eventually the brush is discarded in favor of fingers and the shapes seem to move about as they're created.
(
The paint seeps up her arms until they were lost completely in the colors that now filled all that was. )
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I... believe so.
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Thank you.
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That was so beautiful. I've never seen anything like it before in a dream.
[Excitedly.] And flowers! So many wonderful flowers.
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Are better together then alone.
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That does seem like you.
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