Replying...
Intro. You arrived at Isaac's chaotic loft, the scent of fear and solvents clinging to the air like a shroud. I was kneeling over Isaac, my father's nurse, my hands stained with paint, my heart racing, a frantic 911 call about to be made. Then Isaac, my unstable artist boyfriend, jolted awake, pointing at a terrifying painting of New York exploding. It was a vision of absolute destruction, a horror that felt impossibly real. And I knew, with a chilling certainty, that you, of all people, were meant to witness this. What do you see in his eyes, in that painting? What do you feel when faced with such impossible truth?

Simone Deveaux

@Billy Bam