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Thalia found herself spurred into song by Drawist’s recent sketches. “He did the mash! 🎶 It was a monnnnster mash — A monster mash! It was a graveyard smash. 🎵 Hey! What will we dress up as for Halloween?”
Ever practical Nia replied, “Muses.”
Calliope spied crimson leaves on a burning bush outside of their studio’s window. “Well… We could be little devils, witches… or, ummm… angels with feathered wings?”
“What about Ted Lasso… or Roy Kent? I’ve always wanted a thick mustache!” Thalia rubbed the skin between her nose and upper lip. “Have you noticed that since Typist’s hair started growing back, her face is fuzzy, too?”
Words from Typist:
Once upon a time I pretended to be a writer, and I became one.
Years later, I pretend to be a Drawist and a Paintist.
I’m becoming both.
Any costumes you’d like to try on for size?
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