The sky was black but not the sharp kind of dark. It was the kind that would feel like velvet on your fingertips. Silver and white stars were scattered around like iridescent glitter. They were all beautifully and mathematically spaced apart, the distance of each one from the other was almost perfect. The branches of my favorite tree fanned out elegantly like a maiden's fingers. There were rolling hills that hid the most beautiful, crystalline lake. It reflected a crescent moon on its serene surface.
I ran my hand across the canvas and smiled to myself. My eyes stopped on the low corner where my signature sat together with the date the piece was created.
It was a painting of the night I found myself again.
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