pretending otherwise would make the afternoon less honest.
“I’d like help,” I said. “I’d also like to be bad at it long enough to learn.”
She looked back at me.
“Fair.”
Then she sat on her hands.
I laughed.
“You don’t need restraints.”
“Temporary precaution.”
The room became comfortable again, though something useful had changed.
She began explaining instead of reaching. When the clay shifted, she asked whether I wanted a suggestion. I said yes, tried it, and managed to produce a small, uneven bowl with one side higher than
