The Stickmen
“It was dark and cool and quiet.
Something about the cement-and-cinder-block walls helped him feel at ease.
He guessed that maybe the Stickmen couldn’t talk through the cement-and-cinder-block walls. He didn’t like it when the Stickmen talked to him. It always made his head hurt like after the time he got hit with softball during gym class.
Down here they never talked to him.
Danny was doing another picture now, not with paint like in Miss Romesch’s art class but just with colored pencils. He wa...s sitting up at his dad’s work table and had the lights turned on. This was his favorite place to draw.
Danny liked to draw—it was his favorite thing to do—and maybe Miss Romesch was right; maybe he should be an artist when he grew up. One time even his mother had said that, “With your drawing talents, Danny, you could work for an advertizing firm when you grow up, or one of those computer graphics companies, and you could make a lot of money.” But before Danny could even think to say anything in response, his father had grumbled from the couch: “Honey, Danny’s not going to be any candyass artist, for God’s sake.MoreLess
Something about the cement-and-cinder-block walls helped him feel at ease.
He guessed that maybe the Stickmen couldn’t talk through the cement-and-cinder-block walls. He didn’t like it when the Stickmen talked to him. It always made his head hurt like after the time he got hit with softball during gym class.
Down here they never talked to him.
Danny was doing another picture now, not with paint like in Miss Romesch’s art class but just with colored pencils. He wa...s sitting up at his dad’s work table and had the lights turned on. This was his favorite place to draw.
Danny liked to draw—it was his favorite thing to do—and maybe Miss Romesch was right; maybe he should be an artist when he grew up. One time even his mother had said that, “With your drawing talents, Danny, you could work for an advertizing firm when you grow up, or one of those computer graphics companies, and you could make a lot of money.” But before Danny could even think to say anything in response, his father had grumbled from the couch: “Honey, Danny’s not going to be any candyass artist, for God’s sake.MoreLess
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