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splash of paint

It was a perfect canvas. Yes perfect is an illusion, but it surely was for that moment. Colors that synchronised, like they were born together, breeding a direction of their own, talking a language of their own, following their own bounderies and curves, blending to the right amount where they were needed. It was a sight of beauty no one had ever seen before, and will never see.
The paint makes it beautiful and only paint can destroy the canvas scene… an extra splash can turn perfection into disaster. The perfect blend becomes a curse. The perfection that only the eyes of painter saw; the harmony of which made the colors even happy… But that one splash detroyed it all; she was that splash…


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