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Anna’s Secret Wish by Joan Lowery Nixon and Eileen Nixon McGowan Bright ribbons of color danced and swirled in Anna's mind. She imagined the intense sky blue of morning spiraled with fire-hot red-orange, the way it looked before the sun rose in her Haitian homeland. Anna opened her eyes and sighed as she stared at the lifeless black outlines of fruit against her white sketch pad. "Boring," she thought. Her shoulders slumped while she crossed her arms and adjusted her weight on the stool. Anna flicked specks of charcoal from her jeans, leaving small black streaks. "Anna," Mrs. Moreno said, as she stood behind Anna, "please focus on your work. There isn't much class time left." Mrs. Moreno took a step back and tilted her head slightly as she analyzed Anna's drawing. "Your perspective shows improvement," she said. Anna mumbled, "Thank you," and picked up her charcoal stick to continue sketching. She glanced at the real fruit, then looked at her drawing. The fruit she had drawn was almost exactly the same shape and size as the real fruit. Mrs. Moreno is right. My perspective has improved, Anna thought. She brushed a strand of hair from her face, forgetting that her hands had charcoal dust on them. She had probably left a smudge on her face, but she didn't care. Anna glanced around, noting what some of the other students had drawn. A few of the sketches surely would get A's from Mrs. Moreno. Using only the gray-black charcoal stick, some students had been able to show how the overhead lighting highlighted certain areas of the fruit. The jarring jangle of the class bell startled Anna. "This class doesn't seem to take a whole hour," she said to her friend, Olivia. "No kidding." Olivia laughed as she collected her books. She stopped and took a close look at Anna. "What's that?" she asked, as she pointed to Anna's forehead. Anna smiled and wiped away the smudge. "Occupational hazard." "I'll be glad when we're drawing something besides fruit," Olivia said. "Yeah. Still life gets old fast," Anna agreed. "I can't wait to get into color and use the oil paints." Olivia frowned. "Not me. Oils are difficult. I mean, with pastels and charcoal, you can erase if you make a mistake. Don't you have to paint over an oil if you goof?" Anna shook her head. "There are other techniques." "You sound like a professional." Olivia smiled. On the bus ride home, Anna leaned her head against the window and let the cool air blow softly against her face. She observed the yards as she rode past. Ragged or tidy, they were green. Just about the same shade of green too. In a few yards there were bare trees, which reminded Anna of lollipop sticks stuck into lime lollipops. Anna climbed from the bus, which had stopped at the end of her street. She had walked down this street maybe a hundred times before, but today she carefully observed two parallel rows of white houses with black doors and shutters. All of the units looked exactly alike. Anna slowed her steps, suddenly aware that the only color in the neighborhood came from an occasional bike left in a front yard. "My block looks like a charcoal sketch," Anna mumbled. She began to imagine what each house would look like if she could paint every yard and home. Houses should reflect their owners, Anna insisted to herself. Mr. Ott's house should have a yellow door and shutters, to match his canary hair. Mrs. Reyes would have lots of red flowers in her yard, because she wears red dresses. And because the Dixons have three young children, they could have a door with stripes and splashes in lots of colors. Anna wished that her drab neighborhood could become a crayon box of color. She imagined yellow, pink, and white blossoms against the deep green swirls of the yard. She pictured lavender flowers floating against lush vines climbing next to the front door of her own house. She stopped in front of her own home and looked in sudden surprise at the tidy white house with the black shutters. Placed on the two steps leading to the front door were four small clay pots with brightly colored purple and yellow pansies gently quivering in the breeze. Anna laughed out loud and hugged her books to her chest in happiness.
b or d or its b
B, it was probably a bad idea to have the face at the end haha xD