She had carried the image in her mind for so long that she stopped knowing where she ended and the artwork began. The buildings formed first. Then the scaffolding, the machines, the broken red code, and the glowing fragments that filled the spaces behind her eyes. She believed she was creating it. Then a second head slowly rose from within the structure. It lifted itself out of the architecture, turned upward, and looked directly at her. For the first time, she understood that the artwork had been studying her too. Every memory she placed inside it had become part of its consciousness. Every unfinished idea had given it another reason to wake. She looked down at the creation living inside her mind. It looked back. Neither of them knew which one was the artist anymore.