Zinny just gave him a half-hearted smile as he told her how good it was. Of course he was going to say that. Although the essay on Prose Edda had actually been her best attempt in her opinion.
"I don't know. I don't feel like they are," she replied with a slight shrug. "Honestly, what's special or extraordinary about me that I can actually tell them? I can't tell them that I write so well about all that," she said indicating the paper, "because I actually lived it." Sighing, she slumped in the chair as she looked up at him. "At least I'm only thinking of visual arts. If it were anything else, I'd be completely fucked. Now I'm just only fucked a little."