Life of a Painting

DAY-1: I opened my eyes in a bright and large room. There was a mirror in front of me. The mirror made me realize that I was a painting hanging on a white wall. I could move my eyes freely but it was a little difficult to move my hands. My hands were stuck together, I tried to get rid of these sticky hands but it didn’t work.

DAY-2: It was my second day. Now I could move my hands, I couldn’t sleep all night just to get rid of my sticky hands. And I learned that the mirror could talk (believe me you would not want to talk with the mirror, too talkative). The mirror told me that the owner of the house died, now her child Amara was looking after the house. She was the one who replaced me to this place.

                                            …

DAY-30: One month ago, I was a normal painting hanging on the wall, but now just because of a crazy child I was a broken one. I could see my pieces; I was not feeling well. Were they going to fix me?

DAY-32: It was over. They throwed me to a bin called “RECYCLE BIN”, I could see my twins here. They had different memories with their owners. And I saw a wise painting, he had white moustache and he was not excited or scared at all.

DAY-50: They recycled me and now advertised me again but this time my hands were not sticky. A woman was coming up to me, wait a minute, that was Amara! If that crazy girl was at home, I’d be out, leave me!

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