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Theesah watched all the while. She seemed curious, but she never tried to stop him, so he must be doing something right.Having only a few simple colors to work with was limiting, and he had no palette upon which to mix them, but he did his best. He added blooming flowers to the stalks in hues of deep red, the same that he had painted on the torus, as they were still fresh in his mind. He remembered every detail of their folded petals, reproducing them as best he could manage with so few tools at his disposal. As he became engrossed in his work, adding a few yellow buds to the piece, he could almost ignore the fact that he was drawing on a sixteen-foot-long alien.He stepped back to admire his work, it wasn’t half bad. Theesah seemed to like it too, her eyes widening as she appraised the flowing stalks and the intricate petals.“H-how’s that?” he asked, wondering if he had done it right. She warbled her approval, then took his wrist again, dipping it into the blue ink and planting his. I also noticed a girl seated toward the right, between two Ivy-League types. Indeed, I more than noticed her-I became transfixed by her. She dressed as though she were the result of high-speed particles of personality from each of the last five decades colliding and fusing into one: burgundy saddle shoes, a light green knee-length skirt with a weird Indian design, a worn-out 3/4 sleeve tee shirt with a faded Atari logo, and a pair of silver-blue cat eye glasses. She sat with her knees together and feet a bit apart with her toes pointing at each other, carefully listening to the speaker-I assumed so, anyway; it was impossible to tell for sure, since her eyes were hidden by the reflection in her lenses. I imagined that if I could see them, they would have been big and attentive, which in my mind matched her shoulder-length dark hair and fair skin, colored by an inexplicable blush. I watched her absent-mindedly rub the hem of her skirt, remove badly-behaved strands of hair from her.
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