Hot fire fills the little studio as Sharron melts a piece of metal. She can see her masterpiece in her mind. Now can she make it a reality is the question.
She turns off the little flamethrower as she likes to call it and takes a step back. Frustrated, Shannon throws the piece away.
She has to make something for the art show. Sitting back down on her stool, she closes her eyes for a minute. A voice invades her ears, and she does her best to quiet her inner critic.
You can’t do it, Shannon. Your art is horrible.
“I can do it and I will.”
She plucks up an old typewriter she has had for a few years. Her eyes light up and she gets back to work.
Shannon hums as loud as she can to drown out her inner critic. Soon a metal typewriter peacock sits in front of her in all its glory.
“Have anything to say now?”
No voice enters her mind.
She grins, crossing her arms. “I thought so.”