incidentalist avatar


My ritual preparations; mind, body, spirit - set.


Brush in hand, I stroke the sable. It feels soft: tactile, pliable. Flexing like reeds in a gale, bending like crops in a field. I smirk. Walls stripped bare. Naked. Willing. My blank canvas.

I caress, like a lover. My ministrations filled with care. Dip into gloss. Watch it drip. Dip again. Up to the handle. Slow stroke, even stroke. A little harder, a little gentler. Smooth and even. Cover the cracks. Start afresh. Sepia begets white.




I smile and nod. Smug. Self-satisfied.

A fresh coat of paint.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Christopher almost 8 years ago

    I'll never look at a fresh coat of paint the same way again! Great work, sir.

  • avatar

    Horrorshow over 7 years ago

    Disgusting filth. I like it :-)

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