Ellis was awake by nine, and working by nine-thirty after a fast shower and quick breakfast. For once Janice didn’t chastise him for rushing through it. She understood how important it was to him to get back to his painting. He worked most of the day, using the anger he still felt from what happened with Dean to feed his muse. Finally, he was finished. He stepped back, closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again.
A wan, dirty moon hung in one corner of the canvas, lighting a road wandering through a forest of twisted trees with grasping branches. Strange images were formed by shadows the moon cast. Male shapes reeking of death and damnation. Bent and deformed, more animalistic than human—each one reaching for the lone figure of a man traversing the road. He sto
