Within the darkness is a mother, child, and a white line.

The boy looked into her eyes. Nothing else was said and they started walking down the line. There is a small light at the end. She looks straight ahead with her son behind. He, anxious and scared, looks over his shoulder. Behind them was a void leaving no trace of where they had walked before. Unknown of how much time had passed, the boy became restless. He went to take a step toward it, but the mother held tight onto his hand. She continued walking straight ahead. Her boy struggles to escape her grip.

He screamed,

With those words he pushed her away and ran to the void. The warmth of her hand was gone. Concerned, he looked back. His mother was falling and the line was gone.

Matthew's father talked about a sculpture he made in his freshman year of college. An eye crying tears of lava down the volcano. It broke and thrown in the trash before 2001, Matthew's birth year. His father repeatedly told him that he was an artist because it is in the Clarkson genes he gave him. He said he could see it by comparing the crying eye to his son's art. His father took pride in it, but Matthew was empty from it. To escape from the meaningless pride pushed upon him, he tried to overwrite it.

***

The light from the window crept into the studio. Paint cans sit on most of the floor as the sun went. A man stood in the back; the light behind his heels and darkness covered the canvas in front of him. The morning came and the darkness lifted. In the back is a cherry blossom tree surrounded by lush, green fields. In the tree, an eye with black iris. The blossom petals fell like tears adding onto the image's beauty. after finishing the painting he wrote at the bottom, Matthew Clarkson 8/14/21 Overwritten Memories. To admire it he walked to the opposite end of the room. He stood near the entrance in silence. He thought to himself,

Water stains formed around his black shirt collar. He finished looking and left.

***