[psl] 2016: if there's one thing I've learned you'll always get burned but you'll never give it up

Palmer takes one last baleful look at her latest artistic endeavor before she sets it unceremoniously in the backseat of her van—one of her several half-finished products of this class. Her work had gotten gradually less and less ambitious—even trying the kind of abstract stuff that Vera was working on still ended up looking unimpressive when she did it. Well, she was… good at other things.

“Glad we showed up,” she says over her shoulder to Vera, standing behind her, before heading around to the other side to get in the driver’s seat. “Considering we were the only ones who did.” The teacher had looked honestly shocked to see them—not surprising, considering the ordeal the city had been through in the last few weeks. “Your piece turned out nice, I think. We could probably put a frame on that, hang it up somewhere, if you like. I’ve always thought it’d be nice to have some actual art in the house.”

Hard to say if art therapy's all it's cracked up to be, but everything takes time. It's just that she keeps feeling like there's never enough time, these days, like there's a clock ticking down that she can't stop.