Drawn To Death

The edge of the heavy metal frame warmed in the palms of my hands as I supported my end, my best friend and fellow artist, Pickle Pickford, grunting as he lifted the opposite side free from the bed of the jacked-up black truck parked at the rear of the gallery.

“Careful, please.” I’d only rarely seen my other friend, Dark Mood, in any state of agitation, their typically calm and quiet nature one of the things I adored about them. So, to witness their anxious concern over the massive painting...