At the school art show, Cindy bounced on her toes when she saw her biology teacher approaching.
“Ms Wicket! Ms Wicket, look at this!”
When the teacher had ambled over, Cindy pulled the curtain from the front of her little booth.
“See, I got the idea from the lessons of leaf shapes—”
“So you stuck umbrellas on a tree,” Ms Wicket said mildly. “That’s... nice.”
She leaned forward for a closer look.
“Yes, tidy work. Thanks for showing me.”
Cindy watched her go, the squall of explanations which species she had used in the gene-splice stuck in her throat.