“Good Lord, son, can’t you find pretty shells like normal people?” Aaron dropped to David’s side.
“She wasn’t completely in the water, but shouldn’t her skin be bluish? Why’s she green?”
“Maybe she’s an actress or something.”
Erotica no less, starring Aphrodite dipped in food coloring. Her skin wasn’t Exorcist-vomit pea soup, nor gingerbread-trim lime, but a soft, immature apple—almost the same shade as the shirt David wore.