With a smile, Jude took the pencil from her and examined it for a moment and then re-examined the wall. What stories the two combined could create.

He stood to the wall and placed the pencil gently against it, using it like a delicate paintbrush, and then exploded into drawing vigorously. What he was drawing was not clear, not even to him, but he was confident that beauty would shine through, confident that something would come of it.

He stood back from the picture on the wall and tilted his head a bit. Slowly his smile returned as he saw the guitar smothering in musical notes on his wall.