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AUTHOR'S POV
“ Your paintings are crap...We can't display such paintings at our gallery! ” The words were echoing harshly in her ear. The same words again.
She was walking on the footpath, in a trance, with her portfolio, held in her hand, tightly. She had faced, yet another harsh rejection.
She couldn't even remember, how many times it's been already, for her to be rejected like this. Did people really had to be so harsh?
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