Group moving a mattressI’ve drawn a lot of conversations by this point, and a lot of “action they’re doing at the same time to keep the scene distinctive and visually interesting.” (Traveling! Cooking! Folding laundry!)

But “moving a mattress” is a new one.

By this point I’d lived in 3 different places in the Boston area, so there was a lot of experience to draw from.

Camellia’s apartment (for the next 9 hours, anyway):

Timothy: So . . . you don’t even believe in God . . . but you’re scared of the apocalypse described in the Book of Revelation? Careful on the turn.

Bianca: I’m scared of a lot of things that aren’t real! Or at least, not as big a deal as they sound like. Ghosts. Spiders. My grandmother’s disapproval of them folks that goes against nature. Telling myself it’s nothing to worry about only helps so much.

Timothy: Did you ever believe? — In religion, I mean, not spiders.

Bianca: It’s been on-and-off. There was a time when I thought God was traumatized, and had created humans for the purpose of cathartically experiencing and healing that trauma.

Timothy: Can I ask . . . when you had that idea, how depressed . . .

Bianca: Incredibly depressed. Barely-getting-up, depressed. Impressive I was processing reality at all, depressed.