It was so beautiful! Perfectly white and begging for an image. I couldn’t resist. I lugged my brushes, paints, and mixing trays down to the underpass. The moon was full and luminescent.

I studied it, tilting my head, looking from all angles as an image and colors appeared in my mind’s eye. Then I opened the pigments and from the moment my brush touched the wet paint, until the image was complete, I was under its spell.

I never heard any cars pull up and stop. I only heard the clearing of a throat when I finally stood back and eyed my masterpiece. Three police cars hummed, lights off, behind me. A burly detective in a long black coat with a scrawny assistant hanging behind him beckoned me with a gloved finger to come nearer to him. Four officers dared me to run, fanned out to the left and right.

And that’s how I was “recruited” into the Institution. Kidnapped.

And they destroyed my Magnum Opus.

View this story's 5 comments.