Unpacking later, something fell from my bag and slowly spiraled to the floor. The sketch pleaded at me, it's absurd characters begging for color and new life. I presented my counter argument to the sketch.
"They have already forgotten about you!"
The sketch remained silent. Perhaps it agreed; The world had continued turning without it after all. It eventually noted that I was unemployed at the moment. What else was there to do?
"I have plenty to do! Why just today I made tacos."
The sketch had traveled 4000 miles to be here. It told me this.
"Well certainly.. I thought I would have washed you in a pocket by now." I admitted.
The sketch scoffed at the very idea of me doing chores.
Wounded, I began to backpedal. "They have forgotten! They must have!"
The sketch simply smiled. What if they hadn't? What if they were going to be let down. Good old Cindy, never does a damned thing she promises she will.
"I'll show you! I'm going to paint the ever living shit out of you!" I exclaimed.
And it was so.
