|Concrete Cube Light|
The agitated middle-aged chubby painter waved his arms while he explained what happened.
“The man said hands in the air. Drop the paint. And when I did, the can exploded. There was paint everywhere. I thought he was going to kill me but I couldn’t quite understand why. It’s not like I’m worth a fortune...”
The cute policeman nodded but the distraught painter suspected he was probably doodling instead of taking notes.
When the officer walked away, nodding, the painter sighed.
“I wish that wasn’t my last can of paint. Police uniforms can be amazing canvases,” he whispered to himself.