Simon was staring at the small dish of ink and holding his writing brush. After a few stir in the plate and getting rid of excessive ink by pressing it at the side of the dish, he began to draw. Everything went well, until he found out the hairs of the brush was falling off, sticking the paper and somehow ruined his drawing.

“I should be getting a new brush…” He put it aside and stared at the paper. While the painting was still wet, he wished there were something that could erase the extra part on it, and most importantly, to make sure that no more hairs will ever stick to his drawing again.

After he threw the failed painting and put aside all his drawing tools, he headed to the stationary shop just 2 blocks away from his house to get a new brush, a better brush that wouldn’t have its hair fall off, adding extra fault to the painting or blackened his hand just to get rid of them. There he saw the shop owner, sitting aside staring at the street, but stood up slowly once Simon went into his humble shop.

“Do you need anything?”

“Yes mister, I want a new brush.”

“Hmm, it’s over there,” he pointed lazily to a corner with brushes of every sizes hanging.

Smells of ink and Chinese papers suspended in the shop, even with the slow spinning fan on top, they were motionless. Simon went through the brushes, some were as thin as a chopstick and some were thick as a giant toothpick. Then, he found the one, just as normal as the one he had used. Then, he put it next to the counter.

“That will be 2 Ringgits, boy. I see that this is not your first time buying a brush, right?”

“This is my forth time buying the same thing from you.”

“Oh, you must be a novice on calligraphy then?”

“Sorry, I am a painter.”

“Interesting…So are you good at that?”

“Just so-so…”

“Show me some of your skills then. Here, you can borrow my brush for the moment.”

He handed Simon a thin brush that was rather old and seemingly been mixed with different colours. Once the shop owner poured out the ink in a small dish, took out some minerals with different colours and prepared a bowl of water, he began to do what he used to do: stir the brush in the ink and pressed the hair softly at the side of the plate to get rid of excessive ink and dipped quick on the bowl of water; he drew a fish, only it's black in colour.

“A fish…not bad.”

“Nothing much interesting in it, sir…”

“Oh it’s nice but…don’t you use other colours?”

“I like black and its smells.”

“You should try other colours. Let me show you.” He turned around and took out some of minerals with different colours, some brushes with different sizes, a bowl and an old newspaper. Then, he began to decorate the whole picture, adding leaves on the side, some more fish next to the black one; it took him sometime to finish the picture, making it into a pond with fish, leaves and of course, the lotus itself.

“I like the lotuses.”

“Get some red minerals for the colours then.”

“I have some at my house; I should be going now.”

“See you next time, young boy; and remember to control your brush next time.”

“…I will. Thanks for the advice.”

As the moon was shinning through the window, the picture was almost done, but not as good as the one the shop owner drew. While holding his brush, no hair falls from it, but Simon was covered with sweat and panting softly, somehow happy. “Now, I need red…” He whispered but as he searched through his box, there were no red minerals. His eyes were widen and he sat down, staring at the incomplete picture. It was a bad idea to get the red mineral tomorrow since it would ruin the whole piece as if he added the red later, thus making the whole picture imbalance visually.

“I need red…”

He went to the room in search for red colour pencils, but forgot that the paper was too fragile for him to paint on it. He was frustrated and disappointed. After a few minutes of silence, he finally had an idea…

“Wow, your drawing is nice boy!” The shop owner looked at the painting while smiling with satisfaction. “I really like the way you paint the lotuses!”

“Thanks…”

“But why it smells strange? Never mind…your teacher and parents will be happy to see such a beautiful artwork.” He kept looking at the picture while Simon just stood there, with both his hands behind.