She returns her eyes to her paper. It was a drawing of her garden at home. She had drawn pink flowers and red tomatoes, colored in green grass and lettuce. It was a happy picture, and she had been happy with it. She looks again to the empty space on the corner of her desk and then back at the red-headed girl. The girl looks innocent, laughing with her friends, peeling an orange. Black crayon begins eating up the sky. Back and forth, up and down, dark stripes cross out the smiling sun, the dancing birds. The redhead hands out juicy wedges among her friends as the orange tree is swallowed by a thick layer of black wax.
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