I was too nervous to approach it till he took my hand and led me towards it. My eyes never left it, even when he walked over and pulled off the tarpau...in cloth like a magician performing a trick. My heart stopped … my brow furrowed. There was no painting – the canvas was entirely plain and bare, like it had never been touched. I went closer to it and slowly brought out my hand to touch it. All I felt was paper. My lips fell open with confusion. I turned to look at the artist whom was sitting. " This is lame," Shelly retorted, but she kept with it, blinking periodically and feeling her eyes strain to make sense of what was in front of her.Finally the speckled static seemed to resolve into sharper pixels, which then began subdividing themselves into a grey haze. Shelly was about to complain again when she realized the haze was fading like time-lapse video of a morning fog burning off.Instead of a landscape, Shelly saw a cartoonish room, bereft of detail. Purple walls, tan floor, white. More

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