As quickly as she could she began to erase what she'd drawn. It was a mistake that she'd ever picked up her pencil again. Wretched wish. When the falling star had fallen across the night sky, she'd pleaded that her art be more realistic. And now she was paying the price. Back and forth, faster, quicker, and with more speed she moved the eraser on her paper. She needed to get rid of the little man before he could jump out and cause a scene.