Mark Rothko Violet Green and Red 1951

Mark Rothko Violet Green and Red 1951Mark Rothko Untitled 1962Mark Rothko Untitled 1960Mark Rothko Untitled 1949
Angua froze. Carrot's face took on the usual vaguely puzzled look of someone whose ears have just heard what their brain is programmed to believe doesn't exist. He began to blush.
'Gaspode!' snapped Angua, dropping into Canine.
'I know what I'm doin'. A Man, a Woman. It is Fate,' said Gaspode.
Angua stood up. Carrot shot up too, so fast that his chair fell over.
'I must be going,' she said.
'Um. Don't The door slammed. Angua leaned on it.
It'll end up just like it did in Pseudopolis and Quirm and—
Angua?' said Carrot.
She turned.go—''Now you just reach out,' said Gaspode.It'd never work, Angua told herself. It never does. Werewolves have to hang around with other werewolves, they're the only ones who understand . . .But . . .On the other hand . . . since she 'd have to run anyway . . .She held up a finger.'Just one moment,' she said brightly and, in one movement, reached under the bed and pulled out Gaspode by the scruff of his neck.'You need me!' the dog whimpered, as he was carried to the door. 'I mean, what does he know? His idea of a good time is showing you the Colossus of Morpork! Put me—'