at March’s Divine Market Days. Some of the pieces he’d brought were large and he’d decided to rent twice the normal size space so that people would have room to move around them. He hoped the investment wasn’t a waste of their hard-earned money. Charity looked up at him with glowing eyes and said, “How does your debut feel so far, Mister Artiste?” Justin squeezed her as a little heat crept into his cheeks. “I’m wondering what people will think of them.” “Everyone will love them. I know it.” She came up on tiptoe to kiss him and then looked around at all the sculptures. “They’re all so beautiful. I’m proud of you.” I hope customers agree, or I’m about to make a total ass of myself. He sighed, thinking of the sculptures Clay Cook displayed at his jewelry shop occasionally, and what he’d seen of his work at a gallery in Morehead. He looked around at the sculptures, created from scrap metal and pieces he’d found over the years and he felt like he would never measure up to someone like that.
