It had been a long time since Molly had been invited to someone’s home. “I’d like that, if you don’t really mind.” She stopped herself from sputtering out a longer, more convoluted answer. It felt like she’d been doing that far too often, so she kept it simple.
The connection she made to the current discussion was pure ‘Molly logic,’ but that’s how her mind worked. “Do you know, if you were to ask most any lady the animal they liked most in the sea is, you get different answers? But it all comes down to mostly the same thing. They like the pretty, graceful ones. Ones that even sound nice like dolphins or sand dollars. But I don’t care for those. I’ve always liked the starfish best. They’re near entirely useless. You can’t eat them. They’re bright colors but not really that pretty next to, well, say an abalone shell. But they spend their entire lives clinging on. They fight the worst of the storms and the waves just so they can go on doing what they do. So I think they’re beautiful.”