The Problem with Specific Features
The third drawing was where things started to take a turn for the hilarious. It was from Timmy, the boy who had complained about her moving nose earlier. Timmy was a detail-oriented child.
When Mrs. Higgins looked at the drawing, she didn’t see a face. She saw a nose. A gigantic, meticulously shaded nose that took up 90% of the paper. Two tiny dots for eyes were squeezed into the top corners, and a minuscule mouth was at the bottom. It was a monument to nasal cartilage. “Timmy,” she choked out, trying not to laugh. “Tell me about this.” Timmy pushed his glasses up. “Well, you were standing right under the light, and your nose made a really big shadow. It was the most important thing on your face.”