Second

He sat down against the wall again with the parchment in his lap and a wooden board underneath so that the pencil would follow. It had helped the other day and now he decided to try again, his mind distracted as he began around the middle and then moved outwards. The pencil he used was far too thick to capture the small lines he wanted to make but he made due. There were mistakes and he had no tool to wipe it away, he had no means of correcting mistakes he made and he was content with that. Just as in life mistakes were not simply wiped away, they were fixed or at least made a little better. He had little idea of what he was drawing, he never knew, but in the end, it somehow made more sense.

[Lyra color giant used and no eraser]