"People-watching is a little different when there are only like, fifty people," he answers, shrugging. Sometimes he did try to sketch people, but he kept that in his pad, tucked away. Bodhi hadn't seemed thrilled to find himself on the page, even when Jude explained it was just his unusual clothing that caught his eye. "And the people aren't really the mystery, here."
People are a mystery everywhere, to him: if he couldn't figure them out after twenty years in Hollow Creek, he isn't going to crack it out here.
Tracking her through the room, Jude watches her finish at the picture of home, lifting a finger to it. He hadn't realized how it might stand out, the fields here full of crops and sunshine. "No," he admits, shaking his head. "That's--what I remember, before I got here. That's a field from home."
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People are a mystery everywhere, to him: if he couldn't figure them out after twenty years in Hollow Creek, he isn't going to crack it out here.
Tracking her through the room, Jude watches her finish at the picture of home, lifting a finger to it. He hadn't realized how it might stand out, the fields here full of crops and sunshine. "No," he admits, shaking his head. "That's--what I remember, before I got here. That's a field from home."