“You Timothy Larks?” The voice called.“Yeah,” He called back. “Am I early, or something.” “No,” A voice whispered in his ear. “You�...re right on time.” He began to turn, but a thick, muscular arm wrapped around his neck and pulled him backwards, hard. He lost his balance and went staggering backwards, against a hard, solid chest of muscle. A piece of cloth was around his eyes, and his hands shot up to the arm keeping him captive and choking off his air supply. Somehow, the stranger managed to tie. The three critics stayed seated for about twenty seconds before they put their cups down and approached the stage for Kate’s first new painting. We waited for them to say something to us, but Clarice simply said, “Next,” and the three sat down to wait while we changed paintings. I could hear them talking quietly among themselves, but couldn’t make out anything they said. It was like having a jury sitting back and marking scores. They each had a pad of paper and made notes. As soon as I had my. More

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