Snippet #2040177

Molly watched as Lacross huffed and scuttled off. When he came back she waited for him to draw. He was a good drawer, and she was happy to watch and wait. There was nothing to do anyway. Recreation time was terribly boring. She looked around the room and saw some people laughing. If only she could be that happy. They looked like they were on the road to recovery, whereas Molly was on the quick freeway to death. When she turned back, Lacross was holding out shamefully a picture of something.

"Oh, don't be silly, Lacross, you're a great artist!" she said, misunderstanding his shame. Then she looked at the picture. "Oh..." she breathed. It was beautiful in an odd way. A way that appealed to Molly's inner animal nature. It was elegant, too, in the way that the feathers and furs declared a connection between man and nature. What kind of connection, Molly wasn't sure, but it was a connection. "You and your mother?" Molly asked quietly.