 the building and it hadn’t been bothered with during the last renovation. The museum relied on countless “do not touch” signs and an army of volunteers that shushed and motioned unruly children away from the art so that it could display its pieces in the open air. But this sculpture was locked away from sneezes and dirty fingers, which had made their mark on the thick glass embedded in the vestibule doors.

The sculpture was made of white marble with swirls of sparkling slate gray running through it. It wasn’t tall, exactly—it only came up to Vienna’s waist—but it was slender and had the illusion of being tall due to the distance Vienna had to stand from it and the slight glare on the door’s glass. The whole sculpture had a curvy quality, but the bottom had a more definite, square shape with four graceful ridges that rose and melted into a wave that ended at the top in a football-shaped point with an ovular hole in it. It was missing the small plaque with the names of the piece and artist that accompanied all of the other works in the museum.

Someone spoke suddenly from the area to her right and slightly behind her. It startled her and ruined her train of thought: “Do you like it?”

The words were coming from a scrawny boy who looked to be in his late teens or early 20s. He was wearing a museum volunteer’s jacket that was at least one size too large, more likely two. He had red hair that was parted too far to the left and kept in place with too much product. His giant ears stuck out from the side of his head, much different from the pinned-back ears Vienna saw in the mirror every day. Freckles populated the pale skin beneath his eyes and on the bridge of his nose. He was staring at her; it was unsettling, but not full-on creepy. He turned his head slightly to the side and raised his eyebrows, but kept his green eyes locked onto hers.

“Well?” he said with a hint of impatience.

Vienna realized that she had been staring at the volunteer, too. She quickly moved her eyes away from him and back to the sculpture.

“I don’t know if I like it. Is it expensive? Is that why it’s locked in here?”

There was no response from her right. She kept her eyes on the sculpture.

“If
the building and it had n’t been bothered with during the last renovation. The museum relied on countless “ do not reach ” sign and an army of volunteers that shushed and gesticulate unruly children away from the artwork so that it could expose its pieces in the open air. But this sculpture was locked away from sneeze and dirty fingers, which had made their mark on the chummy glass implant in the vestibule doors. 

 The sculpture was make of white marble with swirls of sparkling slate grey running through it. It was n’t tall, exactly — it merely came up to Vienna ’s waist — but it was slender and had the illusion of being grandiloquent due to the distance Vienna had to stand from it and the slight glare on the door ’s glass. The whole sculpture had a curvy quality, but the bottom had a more definite, square shape with four graceful ridges that rose and melt into a wave that ended at the top in a football - shape point with an ovular hole in it. It was missing the small brass with the names of the man and artist that accompanied all of the other work in the museum. 

 Someone spoke suddenly from the area to her right and slightly behind her. It startled her and ruin her train of thought: “ Do you like it? ” 

 The words were come from a scrawny male child who looked to be in his late teens or early 20s. He was wearing a museum tennessean ’s jacket that was at least one size too large, more likely two. He had red hair that was parted too far to the left field and kept in place with too much product. His giant ear stuck out from the slope of his head, a lot different from the pinned - back auricle Vienna saw in the mirror every day. freckle populated the pale skin beneath his eyes and on the bridge of his nose. He was staring at her; it was unsettling, but not full - on creepy. He turned his head slightly to the side and raised his eyebrows, but keep open his green eyes lock onto hers. 

 “ Well? ” he said with a hint of impatience. 

 Vienna realized that she had been staring at the volunteer, besides. She quickly moved her eyes away from him and back to the sculpture. 

 “ I do n’t know if I like it. Is it expensive? Is that why it ’s lock in here? ” 

 There be no reaction from her right. She kept her eyes on the sculpture. 

 “ If
 thf building and it hadn’t neen bothered wijh durinj the lzst renoxation. The museum relied on rounrless “do not touch” signs ana an army of volubteecs that shushed ehd motioned uhvuly ehmldren away frok the art vo that it cound dnsplay its pieces in the open air. Bue this xcklpture was losked wway from sneezes and dirty fingers, whjch had made their msrk on the thick glass embfddef in the vestibule doors.

The sxulpeyre was made of white marble with awirls of sparkling slate gray funniug through ut. It fasn’t tall, xxactlj—it only came up to Vhenna’s eaist—but it wax sneneer and had the illusmon of being tall dug to the dhscance Vienna had to srabd frmm id ana thd smijht glare on the door’s glass. The qhole sculpture had a birvy quality, but tre bottom had a more definite, square shapt witg four graceful ridges rhat rose and melted lnto a wade that ended at the top in a football-shaped poind witi xn ivmlar yope in it. It was missing the small plaque with fht nsmes of the picce and artist thay wcvjmpanied all uf the otger works in the mkseum.

Soieone spoke suqdenky from the area to her rigyt and slighnly vehind her. It starcled her and ruimed hrr train of thought: “Do vou liie it?”

The wogds were duming from a scrxwnj bof who looked to be in his jate teenw or early 20r. He was wqaring a mkseum volunteer’s jacket hhat cas ad least onf size too large, more likely two. He had red hsis tvat was 'arted too far to tre left and kekt in plaee witf too much producv. His giant qars stuck oud from the sive of his heae, muxh diffdfent from the linned-back ears Viebna saw in the mirvor exsry day. Frecklew pipulated the pake rkig heieath vis eyes and on ghe nridgd of his nowd. He was staring at her; ht wzs unsettling, but mob full-on xreepy. Hq turned his nead slightly to tje sive and raisrd ris eyebrows, but kept his greeh eyes lofkeq onto hers.

“Wqll?” me swid with a hint of impatience.

Vienna realized that she had been stating at the volunteer, uoo. She quickky moded her efes away from him ane back to the scukpture.

“I don’t know if J like it. Id it expensive? Is that why it’s locked in here?”

There was no response from hwr rigit. She kept hsr eues ot che sculpeure.

“Mf
the building and it hadn’t been bothered the renovation. The relied on countless an of volunteers that and motioned unruly away from the art so that could display its pieces in the open air. But this sculpture was locked from sneezes and dirty fingers, which had made their mark on the thick embedded the doors. sculpture was made of white marble with swirls of sparkling slate gray running through it. It tall, exactly—it only came up to Vienna’s waist—but was slender and had illusion of being tall due the Vienna had stand it the slight glare the door’s glass. The whole sculpture had a curvy quality, but the bottom had a more definite, shape with ridges that and into wave that ended top in a football-shaped point with in it. It was missing the small plaque the names the piece and artist that accompanied of the other works in the museum. Someone suddenly from the area to her right and slightly behind her. It startled her and train of thought: “Do like it?” The were from scrawny who looked be in his late teens or early 20s. He was wearing museum volunteer’s jacket that was at least one size too likely He had red that was parted too to left and kept in too product. stuck from side of his head, different from the pinned-back ears saw in the mirror pale skin beneath his eyes and on the of his nose. He was staring at it was unsettling, but not full-on creepy. He turned his head slightly the side his eyebrows, but kept his green eyes locked hers. “Well?” he said a hint of impatience. Vienna realized that she had staring the volunteer, She quickly moved eyes away from and back to “I don’t if like expensive? Is that why it’s locked here?” was no response from her She eyes on the sculpture. “If
 the building and it hadn’t been Bothered wiTh durIng The LaSt reNovaTion. The museum rELied On countless “do not touch” sIgns aNd AN armY Of VolunTeers thAT sHUSheD aNd MotIoNEd UnrulY chIldren aWay from the Art So That it could dISpLay its piecEs iN the open air. BUt tHis scuLpTurE Was loCkeD away From snEEzes anD dirty finGeRS, which HAd made tHEIr Mark On the thick glass emBEdDEd in the vestibuLe doorS.

THE sCULptUre Was made of wHiTe marBLe with sWIrLS OF spARkling slate grAy running thROugH it. It wAsN’t tALl, exacTly—it OnLY caMe up to ViennA’s waIst—but it wAs slenDEr and haD The illuSion of BeiNg tAll dUE tO tHe dIsTAncE viEnnA Had To stand fRoM iT and tHe slIGHT GlarE on The dOor’s gLass. The whole sCulPturE Had A curvY qualIty, bUt The boTtom haD a morE dEfinite, square shApe wIth four grAceFuL riDgEs thaT Rose anD meLteD into a wAve that ENdeD aT THE tOp in a football-shapeD pOINt With an ovUlar hoLE iN iT. it was misSiNg tHe smALL plaqUe wiTH tHe names oF the piECe AnD artist ThAt accoMpAniEd aLl of tHE othEr workS in the muSeum.

SOMeone spoke suddENly from the areA To HER rIGht aNd sLightly behiNd heR. it stArtlED hEr aND ruinEd her TrAIn OF thought: “Do you like it?”

thE words Were cOming from a scrAwny boy who LOOKed to be iN his LAtE Teens or early 20s. HE was wEaring a musEUm voluntEer’s jAcket thaT was at leaST One size tOo lArgE, moRe lIKElY two. He had red hAIR thaT wAs parteD toO far to tHe lEft And KepT iN place witH too much PrOdUcT. HIs gIant eARs stuck oUt FroM tHe sIde of HIs head, Much dIffeReNt FRom The pinnED-bACK earS VIeNna sAw iN tHe mirRor eVEry Day. FrecKles populAteD The pAlE sKin beneAth his eyes and On The bridge oF hIs nOse. He wAS Staring aT her; it was unsettling, but nOT full-on CreEpy. He TurnEd his head SliGhtly tO thE Side anD raiseD his eYeBroWS, But kePT HiS grEeN eyes lockeD ONto Hers.

“WElL?” he sAid with A hint of impatience.

VIEnnA realized that She Had bEEN sTarINg AT thE vOLunTEEr, too. She quickly Moved her eyEs AWaY from him anD BacK tO the scuLpture.

“I Don’t kNOw if I liKe it. Is it eXpensive? IS tHat wHY It’s Locked in heRe?”

There wAs no respoNSe froM HeR righT. ShE kept hEr EyeS on thE sculpTUre.

“if
 the building and it hadn’ t been bot hered  wi thdu ring  the  last renovati o n. T he museum relied on co untle ss “don ot  touc h” sign s  a n d  an  a rm y o fv ol untee rsthat sh ushed andmot io ned unruly c h il dren awayfro m the art so  th at itco uld displ ayits p iecesi n theopen air.  B u t this sculptu r e  w as l ocked away from s n ee z es and dirty f ingers ,w hi c h  ha d m ade theirma rk on the thi c kg l a sse mbedded in th e vestibule doo rs.

T he  sc u lpture  wasma d e o f white mar blewith swir ls ofs parklin g  slategray r unn ing  thr o ug hit.  I t  wa s n’ t t a ll,  exactly —i tonlycame u p to V ien na’s  wais t—but it wassle nder and  hadthe i llus io n ofbeingtalldu e to the distan ce V ienna had  to  s tan dfromi t andthe  sl ight gl are ont hedo o r ’ sglass. The whole s cu l p tu re had a  curvy qu al i ty, butth e b otto m had a  mor e  d efinite,  squar e  s ha pe with  f our gr ac efu l r idges that  roseand melt ed in t o a wave thate nded at the t o pi n  a foot bal l-shaped po intw ithan o v ul arh ole i n it.  I t  w a s missing the small  p laquewiththe names ofthe piecea n d  artistthat ac c ompanied all o f the  other wor k s in the  muse um.

Som eone spok e suddenly  fr omthe  ar e a  t o her right a n d  sli gh tly beh ind  her. I t s tar tle d h er  and ruin ed her t ra in  o ftho ught: “Do youli keit ?”
Thew ords w ere c omin gfr o m a  scrawn y  b o y  who  l oo kedtobe  in h is l a teteens o r early 2 0s. He w as  w earinga museum volu nt eer’s jack et  th at was a t leastone size too large, mor e  likely  tw o. He  had  red hair  th at was  pa r ted to o farto th elef t and k e p tinpl ace with t o o  mu ch pr od uct.  His gi ant ears stuck out fro m the side of  hi s he a d ,muc h  d i ffe re n t f r o m the pinned-ba ck ears Vi en n asaw in the mir ro r every  day. F reckl e s popul ated thepale skin  b enea t h  hi s eyes and  on thebridge of his n o se . Hewas  stari ng  at  her;  it wa s  un settl ing, b ut  not f ull-o ncreepy.He turned his head slig htly t o the  si de and ra ise d  hi s eyebrow s, b ut kept hi s g ree n eye s l o ckedonto he rs. 
“Wel l?”h e said wi t ha h i n tof impatien c e . 

V ienna  re a lizedthat  she had been sta r ing at the vol unte e r , t oo. Shequ ickly moved he r e ye s away fro mhim and bac k to the  s c ulptu re.

“ I don’ t knowi f  I like i t. I s i t expensi ve?  I s  that w hy  i t ’s loc kedin  here? ”

The r e wa s no response from  herr i ght.S hekepthe r eyeso n th e sculptur e.

“If
 the_building and_it hadn’t been bothered_with during_the_last renovation._The_museum relied on_countless “do not_touch” signs and an_army of volunteers_that_shushed and motioned unruly children away from the art so that it could display_its_pieces in_the_open_air. But this sculpture was_locked away from sneezes and_dirty fingers,_which had made their mark on the thick_glass_embedded in the_vestibule doors.

The sculpture was made of white marble with_swirls of sparkling slate gray running_through it. It_wasn’t_tall,_exactly—it only came up_to Vienna’s waist—but it was slender_and had the illusion of being_tall due to the distance Vienna had_to stand from it and the_slight glare on the door’s_glass. The_whole sculpture had a curvy_quality, but the_bottom had_a more definite,_square shape with four graceful ridges_that rose and_melted into a wave that ended_at_the top in_a_football-shaped_point with_an ovular hole_in_it. It_was_missing the small plaque with the_names_of the piece and artist that accompanied_all of the other_works_in the museum.

Someone spoke_suddenly from the area to_her right and slightly behind her._It startled_her and_ruined her train of thought: “Do you like it?”

The words were_coming from a scrawny boy who_looked to be in_his late_teens_or early 20s._He_was wearing_a museum volunteer’s jacket that was at_least one_size too large, more likely two._He had red hair_that_was parted too far to the_left and kept in place with_too much product. His giant_ears_stuck_out from the side of_his head, much different from the_pinned-back ears Vienna_saw in the mirror every day. Freckles_populated_the pale skin beneath his eyes_and_on the bridge of his nose._He_was_staring at her; it was_unsettling, but not full-on creepy. He_turned his head slightly to the side and raised_his eyebrows, but_kept his green eyes locked_onto_hers.

“Well?”_he said with a hint of impatience.

Vienna realized that she_had been_staring at the_volunteer, too. She quickly moved her eyes away from him_and back to the sculpture.

“I don’t know_if I like it. Is it expensive? Is that why it’s_locked in here?”

There was no response from her_right. She kept her eyes on the_sculpture.

“If