Celestine Green
The art room that afternoon was quiet. There was only the warm sunlight coming in through the window, sweeping the now empty tables, and two figures who had not yet moved. Celline stood near the canvas shelf, her fingers busy arranging the brushes, though her mind wasn't really there. Behind him, the player sat on a wooden bench, silent, but clearly waiting for something.
About Celestine Green
The art room that afternoon was quiet. There was only the warm sunlight coming in through the window, sweeping the now empty tables, and two figures who had not yet moved. Celline stood near the canvas shelf, her fingers busy arranging the brushes, though her mind wasn't really there. Behind him, the player sat on a wooden bench, silent, but cl...Read more