xliii. Square
He stares intently at it, and she thinks he looks like a five-year-old. His pen traces the lines he just drew in pencil, and half an hour later, he presents her with a rectangular sheet of paper. She smiles.
"Sam?"
He stands, looking nervous. "What do you think? It's the first frame."
"You did this instead of writing the President's speech?" He nods. "You're being serious about this?" He nods again. "Sam…"
"I know," he says, interrupting. "I need colored pencils. But still…what do you think?"
"It's about the Pilgrims."
"Yeah."
"Pilgrims in spandex." He nods again. "Saving the world."