photo by Daniel Cheung via Unsplash
‘I thought you should see it straight away, Doctor Garrett,’ said Benning. ‘In light of the man’s history …’
Garrett tried to suppress her dislike of the man, of the false sincerity he wore like an ill-fitting mask. His unwashed uniform smelt of sweat, stale cigarettes, last night’s liquid dinner.
‘He calls it a self-portrait, you say?’ The doctor gazed at the canvas, at the weave in the blank, unpainted surface. ‘Tell the orderlies to prepare him for my visit.’