It was as if two different artists had put the color on the canvas. I couldn't say it was an exact likeness of the woman. Even if it had been, it was ...nlikely that more than a couple of people could have recognized her from this angle. It was a portrait of anger and abuse and violence. For all that the flames lept around her body, it was obvious that the woman was not the victim. She was the perpetrator.The screen changed again to my most recent painting of Kelly. Still not a photographic. I don't think poorly of myself, I just know who my type of people are. We swam without talking for a minute. He broke out of his shell by asking what my name was. "Ella," I answered."Ahh."We had a lengthy conversation. I tried not to get to mischievous with his dad sitting horizontally above us. Justin talked about his family, career goals, dreams, and asked me about mine. I told him some things no one knows about me, I felt as tough I could trust him well. I obviously didn't tell him I. More

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