dwell beneath the surface [Momo/P.K.]

I've always loved the creative side of life. I make things all the time. Whether I'm sketching out the ideas that come into my head for new, little, probably actually pointless inventions that will never get off the ground, or if I'm tinkering with things to try to create said inventions, I've always had a good time being the creative sort.

I'd spent my morning sketching out some ideas for something I'd come up with. It was a set of some sort-of night vision goggles. The design had came to me right when I woke up that morning, so I started drawing it out, making sure to include every little detail of it. In the end, it turned out pretty well. I just had to hope that I could actually do something with it when I actually got the parts I needed to make it. Not every idea of mine actually got off the ground.

Before heading out to go for a walk, I grabbed the drawstring bag that I often carried with me that contained the majority of my few belongings. I had my sketchbook, my art supplies such as pencils, crayons, erasers and sharpeners, as well as a small, folded up umbrella in case it rained, a small baggie of snacks (of course) and my tiny teddy bear that fit in the palm of my hand.

I knew I didn't need to bring my teddy bear with me, exactly, but if something were to happen to the orphanage I lived in and my teddy bear somehow got destroyed, stolen or otherwise ended up gone, I'd be devastated. That's why I made sure to bring him absolutely everywhere with me, even if people liked to make fun of me for doing so.

Closing up my bag after making sure everything that I wanted with me was contained inside of it, I headed out the front door of the orphanage. It was a weekend, so there was no school today, and therefore no reason for me to be doing anything of real importance right then.

The fallen leaves crunched under my brown combat boots as I walked down the street. A crisp breeze ruffled my hair and I felt a chill run down my spine. The ratty-looking jacket I wore didn't protect against the cold all that well, even in autumn. I wasn't looking forward to seeing what winter would entail for me and how cold I would get during it all.

Making my way to the park not too far from the orphanage, I walked across the dead grass and brown leaves, both of which made a pleasant sound beneath my feet. The occasional stick would snap underfoot as well as I made my way in the direction where I knew a bench was.

The park was really quite empty today, so when I reached the bench where I usually sat, I didn't expect to see a girl sitting there with painting supplies. She looked as if she were a couple of years younger than me, from what I could tell, and was making quite the appealing piece of art. I sat down next to her and watched her paint for a moment or two before speaking up to compliment her on the work that she was doing such a wonderful job with.

"Your painting is beautiful," I told her, delivering a slight smile as I said this. It was an honest compliment. Hopefully, she wouldn't be deterred by me because of it, though. I knew that some people weren't very good at accepting compliments or simply didn't like to be complimented.

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596 words
Unitato15
title lyrics: "Beneath the Water" by Feed the Biirds