The tiny red hand lifted the bottom blind and watched the boy trying to pick up a worm on the path. He looked happy for once and the hand let go of the wooden blind and started to climb the kitchen tiles. This was just a practice. Sometimes when you were new the bits didn’t work quite as well. You could stretch too easily and then start to droop. The power had to be inside, waiting. Then you could spring. Mind you, even crawling around the walls, the floors, the doors, made them scream and start to talk about secrets. Who would not fear crawling plasticine? Even the scent of plasticine on the move turned some away from their sanity.
They would be back in a hour or so. There would be a meal, so they would all be together, eating. Plasticine did not eat at table. Plasticine had a code, had rules.The Face was absolute about staying with the focus.
The red figure smiled with her new purple mouth. No one would sit comfortably there again for a while after this visit. Milo preferred the word visitation. He had borrowed it from somewhere. There would be in trouble. If only someone would ask a question. But they never dared. They lacked courage being made of noise.
It was better to be prepared and ready to act than to be caught sitting around remoulding your legs or wishing for a brighter colour of plasticine or even bigger eyes. Plasticine eyes were a bit hit and miss. The boy had done his best but sometimes his best was a tired best and he was no artist., not like his predecessor who gave them all shape and possibility. The red figure peeled back her wide fingers from the top tile. She liked it when there was a little oily mark left behind. They would remember the stains later. They would. She liked to leave a trail.
People might notice and try to wipe her sign away, wondering where it had come from and then so, so high up. Such a puzzle for them below. But when everything was done, then some-things would trickle through, minds would run with pictures and sounds would jump in and out of their heads too. What larks. What larks indeed thought the red plasticine figure even though thinking had never been her thing before. George had done a better job after all. He had given her thoughts and a mind to play with. She was ready; she had focus.
They would pay.
