I taught art and I also painted my own oil painting as a writer activity.
Because the house is a 1LDK rented house, I could not draw large size works, and I always kept in the art room of the school after school and was depicting works.
Similarly, I was drawing a picture in a corner of the art room even at my next relocation destination.
One day I noticed something strange. There was a trace of a hand of a small child on the surface of the work.
Oil painting is very slow in dryness, it may take a week to completely dry.
I did not care too much whether I touched someone while I did not know and kept drawing.
I painted over the traces of the hands with paint from the top and erased them.
However, even the next day was with a trace of the child's hand.
The trace of the hand was not one, it was full of the whole surface of the work.
Because it is an oil painting of size No. 100, I felt it was not just a mischief.
That day I painted while erasing the traces of the hands of the work.
And at nine o'clock ... 10 o'clock ... 11 o'clock ... It turned out midnight.
In the art room, only the sound of my brush is heard.
However, from some point, I began to hear a crying voice that was neither a cat nor a baby.
I opened the window, but there are no cats, of course there is no baby.
It seems that it seems to be heard from the art room when it continues to draw a picture without worrying about it.
I looked for directions to whine. Apparently, it seems to be inside an electric kettle used in crafts behind the art room.
The electric kettle was about as large as a large garbage canister used when making pottery, but there is no trace that I used for a long time because it is broken.
When opening the lid, it seems that the students really use it as a garbage box, and the interior is full with paper waste etc.
Since I was transferred to here, I did not have time to clean up and left the garbage.
I was afraid, but as I approached the electric kettle, the crying stopped.
Perhaps the students have confined the kittens.
If there are students doing such a mischief, I can understand the traces of the hands attached to the work.
I opened the lid of the electric kettle and picked up the paper waste to find out the identity of the mischief.
The sound of the paper echoing in the art room was not a pleasant one.
I picked up garbage that I could pick up, but I can not find cats etc.
There was dry sand in the bottom of the electric kettle.
I thrust my hand into the sand and explored inside.
I took it out because there was a response to my fingertip, it was bone.Bones like animals' ones.
I am afraid.
I could not thrust my hand any further and immediately left the art room.
The next day, I talked to the principal about this thing, "I will deal with everything here, so please do not tell anyone" I was told strongly.
According to what I heard later it was that there was a female teacher of art who had been pregnant and retired before I was relocated.
That teacher is currently unknown.
The trace of that small hand and the baby 's crying ... What was it?
Because the house is a 1LDK rented house, I could not draw large size works, and I always kept in the art room of the school after school and was depicting works.
Similarly, I was drawing a picture in a corner of the art room even at my next relocation destination.
One day I noticed something strange. There was a trace of a hand of a small child on the surface of the work.
Oil painting is very slow in dryness, it may take a week to completely dry.
I did not care too much whether I touched someone while I did not know and kept drawing.
I painted over the traces of the hands with paint from the top and erased them.
However, even the next day was with a trace of the child's hand.
The trace of the hand was not one, it was full of the whole surface of the work.
Because it is an oil painting of size No. 100, I felt it was not just a mischief.
That day I painted while erasing the traces of the hands of the work.
And at nine o'clock ... 10 o'clock ... 11 o'clock ... It turned out midnight.
In the art room, only the sound of my brush is heard.
However, from some point, I began to hear a crying voice that was neither a cat nor a baby.
I opened the window, but there are no cats, of course there is no baby.
It seems that it seems to be heard from the art room when it continues to draw a picture without worrying about it.
I looked for directions to whine. Apparently, it seems to be inside an electric kettle used in crafts behind the art room.
The electric kettle was about as large as a large garbage canister used when making pottery, but there is no trace that I used for a long time because it is broken.
When opening the lid, it seems that the students really use it as a garbage box, and the interior is full with paper waste etc.
Since I was transferred to here, I did not have time to clean up and left the garbage.
I was afraid, but as I approached the electric kettle, the crying stopped.
Perhaps the students have confined the kittens.
If there are students doing such a mischief, I can understand the traces of the hands attached to the work.
I opened the lid of the electric kettle and picked up the paper waste to find out the identity of the mischief.
The sound of the paper echoing in the art room was not a pleasant one.
I picked up garbage that I could pick up, but I can not find cats etc.
There was dry sand in the bottom of the electric kettle.
I thrust my hand into the sand and explored inside.
I took it out because there was a response to my fingertip, it was bone.Bones like animals' ones.
I am afraid.
I could not thrust my hand any further and immediately left the art room.
The next day, I talked to the principal about this thing, "I will deal with everything here, so please do not tell anyone" I was told strongly.
According to what I heard later it was that there was a female teacher of art who had been pregnant and retired before I was relocated.
That teacher is currently unknown.
The trace of that small hand and the baby 's crying ... What was it?
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