cocoon one piece with a necklace and mule shoes, also switching her glasses for contacts and neatly doing up her hair. Clearly inappropriate attire for wandering around at night. Prior to this, there’d been occasions where I was forced to go out, such as for shopping or going to the bank. And every time I was dragged out like this, my dread for the outside worsened. The art student reasoned that this happened because I was only ever going out reluctantly and passively, and started to hate going outside in general. “First we need to actively go outside and teach ourselves that the outside is a fun place,” she said. “All maladjustment is a result of mistaken teaching, thus adjustment can be achieved by erasing and amending that teaching.” “Who’d you rip that quote from?” “I think Hans Eysenck said something like that. Pretty incredible thought, isn’t it?” “Well, a clear-cut idea like that sticks better than being told nonsense about broken hearts or contact or whatever. But what’s the reason for the fancy clothes? It’s not like anyone will see them.” The art student grabbed the sleeve of her one-piece and adjusted it. “We feel tense, don’t we? That’s pretty much the only reason, but I think it’s something very important for us right now.” We walked aimlessly around town dressed like we were headed for a party. Lately, the heat in the day had been intense, but the wind started blowing at night, making it feel cool and autumn-like. Fewer bugs swarmed around the streetlights, dead ones taking their place underneath. Stepping around the bug corpses, the art student stood under a light. A huge moth flew about her head. She tilted her head and asked me a question. “Am I pretty?” Getting some fresh air again seemed to have her excited. She reminded me of a child on her birthday. “You are,” I answered. I honestly did think she was pretty. Faced with a picturesque sight like this, I could really understand that feeling of “beauty.”