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April 26, 2013
He stared at the blank canvas, feeling his grip tense and relax on the large paintbrush in his hand. He paced, kicking a metal bucket against the wall. Perhaps if he relaxed, and just sat on the window sill, listening to the sussurus of the city below... Not long after he settled down in the sunlight, he was interrupted by someone pushing a cart down the hall. The wheels sounded old, banging against the uneven surfaces. They whined, increasing in volume as they approached his door. It flew open and his teacher took a paint can, angrily pitching it forward.