The Plus-Sized Bride No One Wanted: Too Fat to Love
Slowly, she began to move her hand.
I sat completely still, barely breathing, so I would not startle her. The tip of the pencil made a soft scratch-scratch sound against the thick paper. At first, her movements were small and hesitant. But after a few minutes, something shifted. Her shoulders relaxed, and she stopped pulling her sweater over her hands. She focused entirely on the paper.
She drew the curved petals of the blue flower. Then she added the tiny leaves on the stem. Her strokes grew bolder and faster.