A dew drop slid down the leaf's surface ever so slowly, catching at the rounded tip before falling swiftly to the ground underneath. I brushed the surface with the back of my hand, watching the other drops fall to the floor and run down the graying grass.

Giving a weak smile I sat up and reached for my drawing pad. Nature could give you so many ideas, especially when it came to drawing the emotions swirling in the never-ending abyss of your mind. Even if the idea you received was not related to the plant or animal you were observing.

I drew broken glass—as if of a mirror—a single shard missing from the design. Creating a few more cracks here and there, I started a meandering landscape. There were two dead, bare-leaved trees and a large moon; the ground was dirt and covered in loose pebbles and stones.

A small black bird on one of the branches was sketched before I reached down at my side for the case pastels and charcoals.

The outline took no more than twenty minutes; the colors and textures were the parts that took all of the time. I made the trees black with knobby bark and twisted limbs. The moon soon illuminated a pale orange; the sky a dark gray with the shading making it look like it was covered with sad clouds. Rocks and dirt soon turned brown and tan, only one or two small patches of grass dotted the defected floor.

Picking up my brightest red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, I smeared them in one place—the area where a shred of glass had fallen. It was the only source of bright and vibrant colors in the whole picture.

Other than that one area with the rainbow, the rest looked desolate and empty. The landscape turned in a twisted fashion to match the broken glass, as if it were a reflection. My pastel hovered just above the page, looking for something I could add. There wasn't anything that popped into my mind, so I put it away and closed my pencil case.

My shattered life had been drawn out into plain sight, but now it is time for someone else to understand the meaning.