Life imitating art imitating life

Chris glanced over at the last painting Ezra had given him for the club. Although he might deny it, this piece might be the last thing he’d ever paint. A frown touched Chris’s lips at the thought. They’d had their differences, but he knew that art was Ezra’s life. To lose something so precious…

“You’re thinking about her,” Devin said. Chris looked at him sharply. “Don’t need my powers to know I’m right.”

“Guess not,” Chris said, his voice soft. He nodded towards the painting. “Ezra called it ‘The Loss’. It’s… rather fitting, I suppose.”


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