So if you’d told me that I had a room full of painting supplies all to myself, I would have told you that I would take my time. I would go slow. I would savor the moment.
But I didn’t.
I don’t know what it was. The sleepless night, maybe, or the drugs they’d used to knock me out. Mostly, though, I thought it was the fact that Knox Blackwell had spent the past hour teasing me past the point of sanity, and I didn’t have any mental energy left to think about the painting I was going to do.
So I just painted.
I didn’t bother to take out all of the paints and lay them out, or pick out all of the brushes I would use. I went for it, grabbing a handful of brushes and an armful of paint tubes. Without forethought, I squeezed the paint onto one of the plastic mixing palettes and started. No cere
