He dropped the rock he was holding with a thump, and drew out a crumpled piece of paper from somewhere and a chunk of black chalk. A few quick swipes with the chalk, then his finger, the paper bending over his palm as he sketched, and he shoved the paper in her direction.
She gripped the piece, the lines uneven and flowing, movement already on the page as the lined figures danced around the flames, the tables and chairs where she had wanted them, everything in a place that worked . He had solved her problem in two minutes.
"How did…"
He folded his arms. "Can we leave now?"
She continued to examine the paper, the emotion that she didn‟t think he knew he revealed—that he would most likely be aghast if he ever discovered.
The unrelenting glimpses of a man behind the masks. She carefully folded the page and stuck it into her bag. "Would you care to enjoy a repast with me?"
