She is so dedicated, so concentrated, her brows somewhat furrowed, but remaining inviting. Her studio light, pointed towards her canvas, the door. Her...array of materials scattered among her, invading the living room, the kitchen. Brushes, paper, clay, the paints. She is amazing. The figures and shapes emerging from the door, her gateway. She looks up and notices me gazing, she touches the door, then touches her heart, her breast, then touches the floor, the walls. It is all tangible, it is all. He stayed in the shower a long time. And then it took a while for him to finish in the bathroom. Maybe it was just my nervousness. I heard the bathroom door open, then there was a soft knock on my door."Come in Wesley."He slowly came through the door. As if he was afraid of what he'd find on the other side. He looked at me without looking, like a puppy who knows he's done wrong but is hoping you'll forgive him. His hair was still wet and there was a little moisture he'd missed on his chest. He. More

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