"Look, no hands! Oh snap! Let me show you my shocked face! Am I right -- and left? Low five! High five!" Happy as a clam, Petals star jumped in triumph with the scene behind them painted in warm shades of orange and peach scattered with fluffy clouds. She flourished the splintered paintbrush over and over but it did not work. The living drawing brought her hand to her face for a facepalm and then straightened, expressionless as a blank page except for tears that welled in her eyes because she did not know how Olivia would return home.
"Magic happens every day," Olivia smiled. "And I am a good artist. Nothing in my hands, nothing in my hands..." The girl produced the paintbrush with a flourish.
Petals eyed her empty hand astonishingly.
Olivia straightened the wand like a magician and colors splashed to create a beautiful door.
"Which hand?" Petals held out clenched fists. She opened both and grabbed Olivia in a hug.
The girl held out her hand to let the paintbrush fall like a mic drop for Petals to catch. Petals told her friend, "Here is my vital secret: Your heart is about the size of your hand when you hold a paintbrush. Fireflash, will you always imagine?"
"Pinky promise," Olivia looked back as she opened the door to her room. After the smiling duo performed a complicated handshake the seven-year-old jumped through the opening.
"Deuces!" Petals flashed two fingers in a peace sign.
Olivia sat up sharply on the bed like a touring oneironaut returning to the waking world. The child checked her desk. She moved the book to lift the paper that covered the picture of Petals and the flower blossom. Olivia ran her fingers across the budded charm that had become embedded into the drawing. The girl spoke with her hands, "Thank you, Petals."