“They have nothing left to lose except the fear of making ugly things.”
Do you know what the difference is between us and a block of marble?
You finished that bust of the landlord. Right before he evicted us.
Then let’s make something that matters. One last thing. Together.
LEO stands. Wipes his face. Picks up his chisel.
You’re ridiculous.
Behind them, the alabaster block begins—just barely—to look like two figures holding each other.
MAYA watches from her wheelchair, a pocketknife in one hand, a piece of linden wood in the other. She isn’t carving. Just holding.