Who: Phillipa Cobb and Open Where: Her art table in the cafeteria When: Today Rating: Low! It's Phils, yo Status: Open
Humming softly to herself, Phillipa leaned over the table while pushing her hair out of her eyes with one hand, the other carefully drawing a heart on a piece of red construction paper with a marker. When she finished the heart, she sat back, then frowned because it didn't look like a very good heart. With a sigh, she started to draw another, then made a face when that, too, looked funny. She knew that people around the prison had started falling in love, and she had started a project, wanting to give them hearts with their names on them (in glitter, of course) so that they could give them to someone else. But the biggest problem with that, she was quickly learning, as that she wasn't very good at drawing hearts. The humming stopped and she sat back, staring sadly at the construction paper covered in funny marker circles, wishing she had a heart that she could trace. The thought brought to mind her uncle Eames, who had first taught her about tracing, and thinking about him made her think of her daddy. Remembering that she hadn't seen him in a long time - almost as long as her mommy, whose face she couldn't even remember now, she lay her head on her arms on the table and started to cry softly.