He stood there at the verge of the cliff holding his marksheet. His memory flashed back to the last time he drew his painting of the star-fed sky from his room on the roof.
Each time he dipped the brush onto the medium and applied it on the paper, a sense of warmth touched his soul amidst the cold night. His eyes could hardly believe that was his art for it looked like a piece of the dark midnight blue.
The engineer jumped but the artist flew.