The morning after she won her first award, Zeba started her next painting. She crawled on the floor, balanced the paintbrush on her mouth and stroked her way through the canvas.
She was incapacitated and did not want anybody to believe she had been awarded due to sympathy. Zeba wanted to carve her own niche.
Written as part of the Blogging from A to Z April Challenge – http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/