It was six o’clock in the evening when Knox came back. I was in the art studio, busy with my painting. I’d managed to finish thirteen pieces. Two others were pushed to the side, half-done. They irritated me like I was a kid with a loose tooth ready to come out. I tongued them but couldn’t figure out how to get rid of the idea in my head. They weren’t quite right.
I was busy working on my fourteenth canvas when Knox arrived.
“What did you eat for lunch?”
“Lunch? Oh, right,” I said. I looked out the window, where the sky was growing darker. “Lunch. What time is it?”
“It’s dinnertime.”
“Oh. Dang. Well, I got distracted.” I dabbed another bit of blue onto the canvas. Not quite there, but close. I dabbed again.
“I can see that,” Knox said.
“I’ll be out in a sec,” I said, da
