Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

Chapter 153: Since the reporters hadnt shown up yet, Allison leisurely browsed through some comics at the mall.

Her attention was drawn away when she heard a soft voice from a nearby corner.

Excuse me, miss… Would you like to take a look at my comics? Turning around, she saw a young man with a boyish face crouched in the corner.

Before him lay a few comics, arranged in a modest display clearly an attempt to promote his work.

Unfortunately, anyone passing by barely spared him a glance.

Its fine if you dont want to buy them.

If you like it, I can give it to you for free.

Just take a look, thats all I ask, he said, his gaze flickering with a hint of envy toward Onyxs polished stall, quickly masking it with a friendly grin.

Im not famous, but I hope this story might brighten your day, even just a little.

Allison, with time to kill, crouched down and picked up one of his comics.

To her surprise, his artwork was diverse and inviting, each panel imbued with a tender warmth that was hard to ignore.

The cover of the comic she held featured a delightfully clumsy cat, its fluffy, round body perched by a window, attempting to act cute.

Her heart softened; there was something undeniably endearing about it.

The cat in this story is inspired by one I used to have, the young man explained, a fondness glowing in his eyes.

Back when I lived in the countryside, it was just me and the cat.

I try to capture that feeling, hoping it brings a bit of warmth to everyone who reads it.

Allison flipped open the comic and noticed the name Garry Schmidt scribbled inside.

It seemed to be his real name.

Your art is really impressive.

Why hasnt anyone bought it? Have you thought about submitting your work to a publisher? These drafts are great, but you could definitely take them further.

His talent was clear the way he balanced the pacing, the smooth progression of each scene, all carried a quiet charm.

The animals he drew had a lovable awkwardness, the landscapes felt naturally serene, and his characters, like the young boy in shorts, exuded innocence and simplicity.

his head,

transitions arent smooth

something more action-packed, and

these myself, using my savings, and Ive been giving them away

for

transitions are a bit rough, especially when you move from one scene to

things feel

flipped through a few more pages, her eyes catching

is, your art

Its the flow.

the transitions and building

shift, the transition would feel more

have a way of bottling lifes moments and turning them into

you have and the way they

you draw from that, your

all, every

chapters, she offered a more specific

you could

your pen is a camera, gradually panning to a new angle, subtly

readers into the next

his brow, clearly eager to understand but

but how do

this meeting was fate, after all! If she could guide Garry in the right direction, his

pencil on the floor, picked it up, and found a blank piece of

she sketched a playful Persian cat,

Here, she said.

a look

hit the floor

Impressive! he stammered.

just a few fluid strokes, it was

command over structure and

with the speed and grace of a seasoned

moments, behind the Persian cat she had drawn emerged a serene country path,

waters

a picture

scene; it carried the

scent of wheat heavy in the air,

longer Garry studied it, the

strange déjà vu