Fortunately, you picked some long-stemmed roses as the flower to draw, so you still have
a good 12 inches of height left. The bench where you were drawing is a short distance
away, and the pen and pad are resting peacefully on the seat. You push your way through
the brush and to the edge of the wide concrete path, looking both ways before you begin
your dash to the bench.
Your sensitive ears pick up the sound of feet approaching from around the bend. Judging
from the distance to the bench, you'd never make it in time. Instead you retreat into the
flowers again, as two giant pairs of legs and sneakers pass by. You look up to see a pair
of boys, probably not more than 13 years old passing loudly.
"Hey!" one of them calls to the other, "Look at this." You cringe as you realize they have
found your drawing.
"Nice work," says the other one. "It looks so real, almost like a photograph."
"Yeah," replies the first. "I wonder whose it is... nobody is around."
"We should leave it before they show up," says the other.
"OK," says the first. Then after a pause, he adds, "But not without making a few
improvements of my own!" You gasp, as you lean forward to watch the giants hover over
the magic pad.
After a few moments, the second boy says, "That looks really good! I didn't know you
were so good at drawing. Let me do one too." As soon as the pen changes hands, your lip
begins to itch. In seconds, long thick hairs sprout from your nose to your mouth and
sideways across your face. A mustache! You're a little annoyed by the addition, but
mostly relieved that they didn't do something worse.
"What are those wavy lines?" the first boy asks, as the second puts the pen and pad back
down on the bench.
You hear the voices begin to receed as the boys walk away, "Those are motion lines to
show that he's still shrinking."