” The girl was obviously having problems carrying him.“Hey, muscle weighs . . . “ Garrett’s speech was slurred and faded.“Yeah, we know. Let’s just dump him and get outta here.” Joe was there.“Hey, is that girl here? Rachel?” She spoke again.“Probably sound asleep if she hasn’t popped her head out after you knocked over that plant.” Joe didn’t sound amused. I was surprised she remembered my name, even if it was wrong. Not sure why Joe liked to call me Rachel. Guess he couldn’t say Kaori. Not really that hard, but I didn’t mind. Kind of became our little thing.“Let’s strip him and throw him in her bed.” What was she suggesting?“Seriously? How drunk are you?” Joe the protector.“Hmm, that might be Facebook worthy.” Kent you ass. What are you thinking?“Wait, we agreed we would leave her out of it.” No matter how much Joe drank, he was always a gentleman.“We can make it so you don’t see her face. And look, she’s probably passed out.” I had left my empty bottles on the table. Crap.“Yeah,. "M.L. Gallery."He entered noticing the rich hardwood floor with a deep glowing shine. Thenot too dim, not too bright track lighting gave a very comfortableatmosphere. There were chairs of red velvet before each exhibit which Stanthought would be a bit presumptuous that someone would contemplate eachexhibit for so long that they would need to sit down.Stan looked up, thinking someone was there. There was a woman, still andperfect. Her wide eyes of brown sugar looked back at him with an air ofcuriosity. Stan bowed a greeting and went to speak when he realized that itwas a mannequin. At her feet was a plaque which simply read, "Dominque".Stan wasn't impressed with what she was wearing, a plain sun dress, norimpressed with the background she was set in of a field of wild flowers andbutterflies. But he was impressed with her face, her simple beauty, hergentle smile, her eyes of wonder.Minutes passed before he realized that the mannequin, a perfect recreationof a human, was the art in fact.
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