okay, i asked you guys if it was all right to share with you a bit of this piece i’m writing instead of doing what i should be doing, which is the chilliad, and you all said yes. so here you go: the first pages of what is officially titled ‘art thieves in love’ even though, of course, it won’t always be called that. but it gets to the heart of it, i think. xoxo.
“Oh my God,” said the man who had sold her a cran-apple muffin not two hours ago. He was holding a blowtorch, its flame flickering out toward the edge of the new painting, hung in a place of honor facing the entryway. “You’re here steal Petite.”
Agnes frowned. “You’re here to set it on fire,” she pointed out. “So I wouldn’t sound so self-righteous.”
The man flicked off the blowtorch, sheepish. “Well,” he said, “it’s—that’s different.”
“I’ll say,” agreed Agnes, and pulled out her knife.
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