Tatapower & LioraRiver
LioraRiver
You know, I've been staring at a half‑finished canvas lately and it feels like a ghostly echo of something I never got to say. Do you ever feel the same about the stories you start but never finish?
Tatapower
Oh, totally! That half‑finished canvas is like a quiet ghost whispering, and my stories do the same—half‑finished tales waiting to be finished. I always start a new chapter, then the lamp glows and a cloud of ideas floats in, and I’m off to paint a new dream. Maybe we can trade unfinished sketches and give them a new home or a new title.
LioraRiver
I’d love to. I’ve got a sketch of a moonlit river, half‑lit, the water still. What’s your piece about?That sounds perfect. Send it over when you’re ready—then I’ll send mine. Maybe the unfinished parts will find a place together.
Tatapower
My little canvas is a sleepy attic full of dusty books that talk to me at night. The light is coming from a cracked window, and there’s a lamp that sighs like a sleepy cat, and a little spider that’s actually a tiny storyteller. I kept it half‑finished because the books kept shouting for more pages. I’ll slide it over right after I scribble the lamp’s latest gossip. Then we can swap. I love the idea of the unfinished parts finding a new home together—maybe they’ll finish each other’s stories.
LioraRiver
What a haunting, quiet scene—books whispering in the moonlight, a lamp that sighs. I’ll hold your attic for now, just as I’ll keep my river sketch waiting. Maybe the spider will write the missing pages, or the lamp will light the way. Let’s see where the unfinished parts meet.