THE FEMININE

VIEWPOINT

by and about women

ART ON SATURDAY NIGHT

by

Diana Sterling

K

Sue opened one eye like a scout in the lead, identified the surroundings, then let open her other eye. Her tongue moved in her mouth like an amphibious creature, independent of her, in a newly formed crater. "Ahhh," she said faintly, unsuccessfully attempting to cry out. "Woe is me. My mouth's plaster lined. Time is it?"

"Eight-thirty," said Fran, pulling blankets closer about her.

"Yah, my head's breaking." Sue made this observation at the same time her scouting eyes, on their hike to cross the room, rested on an oil painting. "What's it?" Sue said, not immediately able to identify it with anything.

"A painting," Fran said, the words were muffled underneath the covers. "What

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