Chapter Twenty Five
When Mal had returned to his loft he was crazed, for his manic side had taken over for the time being and he felt as if blisters were peeling away at his brain.
Stalling at the mouth of his various studios his eyes clicked everywhere. Still there we’re the gold ingots boiling away in the acid waiting for him to transform them into chain links.
“What about his new project and the chunk of clay he wanted to create something from nothing out of, hoping that she would love it.”
His cameras and the photographs upstairs that kept gnawing at his mind were driving him crazy.
“What about them.” He whispered to himself, as his eyes jerked everywhere, now out of control.
“The painting of Lise, he had to finish that too” he thought, as his brain fried and his eyes jerked ever
