I woke up by the smell of the colours; the smell of the watercolours.

It's like a museum here, so big and neat corridor. The sunshine falls from the skylight and white wall reflects it softly. I look around and see many big, door-like, palette on the marble floor. Watercolours are already on the palette. Some are mixed, some are just on them. The tube colours also lie scattered on the floor. In front of me lies a discoloured picture.
I hold a brush on my hand.

"Let's get started and repair the picture now."
A man on my side stares me as if to say so. But I don't know what's going on here.
Where am I? Why do I grab a brush? What am I?

I can't remember anything at all.

Does he want me to colour it? On a picture?
I look at the picture again. It's on a drawing paper which undulates, probably by the water when it was drawn--discoloured, though. The white part looks like a costa of a dinosaur is cracked already.

How should I repair it?

The man stares the brush on my hand.

Paint on it?

I don't understand. But I look around and find a wine-red colour like the one in the background of the picture. Diluted by the water, and I soak the brush.

Well...let's get started!

I draw. Then the discoloured gets bright as I draw.
It looks like that the picture will be repaired when I draw on it with the same colour. I continue drawing. The cracks on the white parts get stuck when I draw on it. I 'm getting absorbed.

.............
Finished. I don't know but I think it's enough. I think the picture says so. When I think so, a girl crosses my mind. A girl about 8 years old with a brown hair. The owner of this. I believe so.
I go out the place with the picture.

However, I don't know where to go. I don't know where she is. Well, be cool. Why should I go and see her? I have no proof. But I'm sure. The picture controls me, maybe. I don't know at all, but I must hand her it.

I walk around a little. Then I see a girl coming. Getting closer, I find out it's the girl I'm looking for. So does she. But we never run, and walk up each other.

I hold out the picture. She stares it for a while, and then looks up me and nods.
I remember everything.

Yes. I'm a repairer. This is my job to draw on a picture to repair picture. When I finish, I'm absorbed in the picture. And then in the new world in the picture, I repair a picture.
A repairer of a picture in the picture.
This world must be a picture of someone. I repaired to get absorbed. Then I repaired again. This picture. So, I'll be in this picture.
Yes. I have been doing this. And I will be doing this.

As I Remember, I feel dizzy. The picture invites me. When I wake up again, I will forget everything. But somehow I will do the same thing...forever.
When I wake up......

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