"That belly," Eloise remarked airily. "Pregnant women are instantly well-proportioned. Have you noticed? It doesn't matter what they look like... Beforehand. Once the belly pops, they're... Adorable."
Not that she'd considered this at length before. Ellie wasn't really sure where the thought came from, but it seemed perfectly appropriate and well-considered. She could go on and on about symmetry, natural design. That odd theory she remembered reading: where art did not imitate life, but life imitated art. Am I saying this out loud?
No. Only smiling dreamily back at David, nodding at his question. The next time the joint came into her hands, she swayed happily in the sand as she inhaled. "Wowww."
I feel it. I want to feel things.
The thought was oddly stark, in a mind that felt fuzzy, soft. Colorful.
"I wish," Ellie began, leaning companionably against David's knee, "I had synaesthesia. Where sounds had tastes, and words had colors, and... Everything." She laughed again, as if this were absurd -- and then again, when Dog's ears twitched where she lay.