#sparrowmoore

mattie sat on the edge of the empty swimming pool with her legs dangling off the edge. she watches sparrow, “how long have you been doing graffiti for?” she asks, curious to know. “i’ve always wanted to give it a go but i can’t draw for shit” mattie carries on, “i feel like you’ve gotta be REALLY creative to do somethin’ like this”. 

“i’m not really an art critic,” owen begins as he takes in what the other has done so far. “so i’m not sure i can pinpoint exactly what you’re going for. is it abstract? because i can’t exactly say with certainty i know what you were trying to do.”

isadora was doing her grocery shopping on her usual thursday afternoon. she had her handwritten list in the child seat on her cart, slowly but surely making her way around the store and gathering everything she needed. however, once it came down to PICKLES, of all things, her usual brand was not on the shelf. she frowns as she carefully picks up one jar per hand and inspects them. isadora glances over and sees someone not too far from her in the aisle and decides she needs their help. “hey! i hope you don’t mind me asking, but have you tried either of these pickle brands?” she holds up both jars, one with a blue label and one with a white label. “my usual choice isn’t here and i’d hate to pick the worse jar.”