I have been in love with this painting for years.
When I was shopping at St. Vincent de Paul’s thrift store for essential apartment items, I saw it laying on the counter after I’d already checked out. My heart skipped a beat. I asked the tattooed, pierced woman behind the counter if she knew whether it was still for sale or not; she told me a woman not two minutes before me had decided against it.
It was $3. I snatched it up with gratitude under my breath to the woman who left it behind. Now it hangs above my bamboo bookshelf beautifully glowing against my white Christmas lights.