The York Gallery; Sunday [ 08/03 ]
Charlotte had had such a fun time yesterday, drawing new pictures to put up in the gallery to cover up all those ugly ones, but the ones she and Kevin drew could only cover so much. So she was busy at work at the reception desk, scribbling away all sorts of castle and fairies and ballerinas and ponies and puppies and princesses and knights and dragons (even though she wasn't very good at those) and flowers and butterflies. And shoes. She drew some pretty shoes, too, and whenever she finished one, she put a price tag of about fifteen dollars on it, hurried into the gallery, posted it somewhere, and then went back to work.
There were plenty of crayons and paper for everyone else to contribute, but only if they drew pretty things.
She'd also found some cookies, but did not know how to work the coffee machine, which was okay, because coffee would stunt her growth, and Charlotte didn't want to be a ballerina anymore today. She wanted to be a model, and they had to be tall.
But not too tall.
The York Gallery is open!
There were plenty of crayons and paper for everyone else to contribute, but only if they drew pretty things.
She'd also found some cookies, but did not know how to work the coffee machine, which was okay, because coffee would stunt her growth, and Charlotte didn't want to be a ballerina anymore today. She wanted to be a model, and they had to be tall.
But not too tall.
The York Gallery is open!