step on the CRACKS -- open Jul 25, 2011 10:35:14 GMT
Post by Nadya Thompson on Jul 25, 2011 10:35:14 GMT
The city was the colour of a cut diamond in white gold. It was so bright she could barely look, like the sort she'd sometimes seen in the local jewellry store on her way past, the sort that meant the clerk had to be able to smell the money on your filthy-rich hide before he'd let you in twelve feet of it. And money? She snorted, brushing a stray strand behind one ear. That happened to be the one thing a student artist was a black hole for. Paints, pencils, sharpeners, canvas, the list went on. And, of course, then you could get more specific: HB pencils, graphite, Faber Castell or just Faber, watercolours or oils, cheap or with pigment coming out of the eyeballs. Soft canvas, rough canvas, A4, A5, custom, floor-length, like some kind of curtain. And that was just the basics.