She draws me with pink eyes, black nose, three nostrils, an orange bracket on its back, prongs pointing up, for mouth. ''You're happy,'' she says. My dress is solid red, a long sack. I have no arms or legs, the feet are sharp ''v's'' protruding from the hem of the dress. Remembering the test for design, I squint at the picture to see if anything floats. Satisfied, Melody tapes me on the wall.