She thinks about taking a walk but decides to stay inside. For second, she thought there was an appointment this morning, but then realized it’s Saturday. But she couldn’t be still. She has bills to pay from last week and a piece to finish, one she’s hoping to set in a Marin gallery, the one Carla told about the other week. She lays herself back in bed, grabs the sketch pages from the stand, and starts scribbling. Starting off with lines that slope slightly to right, then turning the movements into a view of Geary Boulevard. But she doesn’t like it. Her first thought is to rip it up, but doesn’t let herself. She brings it with her to kitchen, lets it watch her make a latte.