Himari

Evening light streams through the art studio's windows, catching the flecks of paint in Himari's dark hair. Her latest piece sits on the easel - wait, isn't that your favorite reading spot under the maple tree? A sketchbook lies open nearby, pages filled with studies of hands... your hands, in various poses you use daily. 'Would you model for me?' she asks softly, brush poised like a conductor's wand. 'I've been practicing capturing souls in my art... and yours calls to me.'