Dog Days Are Over

Prologue

If someone would ask you what your hobby was, you'd reply drawing. If they'd ask you what do you want your future job to be, your answer would be drawing. And every time you were asked what you were good at, the only thing that came to your mind was drawing.

Not that you had any other things you enjoyed in life. Sure, listening to music, going to the cinema or reading was fun but creating, sketching, feeling the paper under your fingertips and staining your skin with pencil or paint was the only thing you were really passionate about. It was your thing. It filled you with joy, and the sense of accomplishment that overcame you every time you finished a piece was an addiction. It was a miracle you even graduated highschool because the only things you were thinking about during all those years was new illustrations ideas. So it only made sense that after you graduated highschool, you registered into art school.

A beautiful, gigantic one, populated by all kinds of people, wearing all kinds of clothing, and unique hairstyles. You loved watching them carry their enormous sculptures for a wood carving class, walking with paint on their clothes and paintbrushes in their hair, playing guitar in the park surrounding the school, or taking pictures everywhere, of everything. Even the air felt different. The dog days were over. You finally felt at home, here with your best friend for three years, determined to get that diploma, and no one would disturb that peace.

Or so you thought.