Ahe did not crumple the paper. He waited for the ink to dry and laid it flat. The four feet, and the unusual little creature, remained. “I'd like to keep it as an imaginary animal.”

“Does it still answer today's task?” Tao asked. Ahe shook his head, then smiled. “No. But it can remind me to check what I'm trying to draw.” Grandpa Song washed the brushes and laid them together.

The saying about adding feet to a snake does not tell us to stop imagining. It reminds us that unnecessary additions can spoil something that already meets its purpose. The breeze passed the table again. Neither picture needed another stroke.