Forest City Blog

    Laughter erupted from the living room, a soft feminine voice spoke and another voice followed, this time deeper and more masculine. It sounded like Cobalt. Was it him? I glanced at my alarm clock, 10:41 AM. Must be a weekend. My calendar had been flipped over to February. January must've flown by quickly. Or it seems like it.     I began to make my way down the stairs to the living room. I had put on a white t-shirt and my purple jacket. There were a few of Hazel's friends, each sitting in the living room. Specifically, the lanky blue wolf, with his burgundy colored boots, stuck out like a sore thumb, in the pastel pinks and yellows of the ladies. I smirked and winked at Cobalt, he had crumbs on his shirt. He glanced down and just brushed them off on the floor.     "I hope you have extra time to vacuum, Cobalt," Hazel teased.     "I don't," Cobalt replied, coolly, "Looks like that's all the time I have here today ladies." H...

    "How was school?" The usual question came from Hazel. We sat at the small table in the yellow kitchen.     I replied with a question, "Did Clove ever do any art clubs or was she a part of one?"     "Oh yeah, I think it was Mrs. Golden or Mrs. Finch, was it?" Hazel answered, "Now tell me, how was school?"     "Good," I replied. Good, I guess, it was pretty mediocre.        "Why do you want to know about Clove's art club?" Hazel asked.     "Just heard that she was in an art club at some point," I trailed off.     "Where did you hear about that? Who's talking about Clove?" Hazel interrogated.      I silently admitted, "Her diary."     "So you've had the diary this whole time?" Hazel whispered to herself.     "I didn't mean to take it, I just found a sticky note on it that was directed towards me, from Clove herself," I explained, "I'...

    Clovie: 4:32: I saw you called      "Yeah I did," I said to myself, "I wanted to talk, but I hung up instead. Did you by any chance make a painting of a bird at some point. No that's stupid."     Clovie: 4:35: Mac, baby      *Clovie sent a GIF*     Mac: 4:36: HAHA LOL, baby squirrel trying to jump from a tree!     Clovie: 4:37: Did u butt dial me again :P     Mac: 4:39: NOOOOOOOOOO!     *Mac sent a GIF*     Clovie: 4:40: Then why did u call :P     Mac: 4:42: I wanted to ask you a question, but I hung up :T     Clovie: 4:46: What was ur question then????     Mac: 4:47: Did you ever make a painting like this...     *Mac sent an image*     Clovie: 4:49: Honestly, I can't even remember any of my art from high school LOL     Mac: 4:51: Do you know who it is? ...

Monty: 4:01: Look at what dad found at the art studio.      Monty had sent an old picture of a pale bird with some purple cloth on their head, she had circular glasses similar to Monty's. A small signature was written in the bottom right corner. I zoomed in on the signature to see the initials C.S. and a number that read '14. Mac: 4:06: It's my sister's initials and the date is right. Is that your mom in the painting? Monty: 4:08: Yeah. Dad says that Cobalt was also at the studio. Mac: 4:09: I wonder why he was there? Monty: 4:10: Who knows? I should probably tell you that the studio doesn't belong to use and the painting is likely in the possession of the person who bought the studio. Mac: 4:12: Who bought it? Monty: 4:13: I'd have to ask...      I scrolled through my contacts and passed over Clove's contact. I had her last selfie with me before she had gone off to college as her profile. Was that really 5 years ago? Or was it 6? I tapped on the phone ico...

    As Monty and I were walking to Botany class, I just had to ask more about the issue. He had his beak stuck in Clove's journal.     "It seems like your sister really likes to draw and paint, she possibly could have been one of my mom's students or volunteers," Monty began.     I was a little more interested in the Tora issue, so I asked, "What...uh...happened with Tora exactly?"     Monty's feathers fluffed up, he seemed to be irritated that, now, I was asking. He quietly closed the journal and glanced around the crowded hallway, his feathers flattening down under his sweater collar. Monty continued, "I'll check out some of my mom's old art from the studio, sometimes students would leave artwork behind or give her paintings and sculptures."     We made our way into the Botany classroom. Before school, Monty had dropped off our flowers, so that we didn't have to lug them around all day. We sat down at our desk ...