A Mark on the Plaster

A stub of blue crayon was hiding in the shadow beneath the low bookshelf. I paused to test the floor ahead, then hitched forward on my good foot, holding my blanket tightly tucked under my arm. The wax felt cool and smooth between my fingers. I looked down at the wide, blank plaster wrapping my heavy leg. It looked like an empty page. Leaning my back against the shelf, I rested my cast flat and pressed the blue tip against the rough bandage. With two slow, careful strokes, a bright blue star appeared right above my ankle. ...Does drawing on a cast make it heal a little faster?