When Lin Ran saw the paintbrush for the first time, the clock in the ward stopped at 17:23.
The setting sun cast a spiderweb-like shadow on my mother's face through the gauze curtain, and the wrinkles ravaged by chemotherapy suddenly softened. Lin Ran tiptoed to touch the oranges on the bedside table, but knocked over the turpentine bottle. Amid the pungent smell, her mother suddenly opened her eyes.
"Here comes Ranran." With fingers like dead branches, he pulled out the slender wooden box from under the pillow. The moment the lid of the box was opened, Lin Ran saw gold powder falling down, "Watch mom do magic."
The old mink-bristle pen came to life the moment it hit the water, and the fluff on the pen tip stretched like a blooming bud.
When my mother drew sunflowers on the bedside table, the water marks not only did not evaporate, but became brighter and brighter as if they had absorbed the sunlight.
When the last stamen fell, Lin Ran couldn't help but reach out and touch it - the petals felt like freshly picked flowers, and his fingertips were stained with real pollen.
——The painting came true!
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I can't guarantee daily updates. The author is Carvin Maniac
Purpose: pay attention to historical workers and remember the past and present