Marta sat in her car as the sun set. Her art opening tonight would be the ultimate in exposure. She clutched the tiny red lacquered wooden nesting doll to her chest and closed her eyes. She’d moved to the US, painted when she barely had enough to eat, applied for an art grant on a prayer, and won it. And now…
“I’m no longer that little girl afraid to show myself to the world.”
Marta tucked the doll into her purse and got out of her car. An era had ended, and an exciting new one was about to begin.