While he fumbled around in one of the storage cart's drawers, where he seemed to keep all of his sculpting tools, I flipped through the clean, rigid pages of Oris, which made me feel as if I was looking at a class handout of an Economic MBA program instead of an Arts one. How did anyone not see how cold and boring to look at this magazine was? How self-important and-
My thought dissolved. The dark emotional turmoil that'd been roaring inside of me before returned. I read the article's title stretching under my nose with a thorn in my chest.
WHY PEOPLE FALLING INTO COMA
MAY HAVE ITS ROOTS IN ART
By Comus
Shock and disbelief tumbled against each other in my mind as the words seeped through my head, deep into my brain. I could feel cold and hot colors stroking up and down my cheeks and l
