So... how did I end up in front of this Goya?
Minutes earlier, I hadn't even known that as its name. Even so, this plant was the first detail that stuck out when I let myself in through the frosted glass door.
The suite felt absolutely different than before. But other than the Goya, I couldn't spot anything else off. I slowly painted the walls and floors with my eyes, trying to find something else that had changed.
Something inside me kept me from flicking on the lights. Just as my finger was about to reach the switch, the office beckoned whatever was inside me. I walked in to find a single note, along with a bottle of whiskey, on top of the desk.
I trust you have upheld your end of the deal. One minor issue has cropped up. I don’t expect to be returning to the office. Maybe you can get some use out of it while this all blows over. I even had a Goya put up for you in the reception space. Sincerely, Ball
I must've read the note five times. Through the window I heard the city coming alive. Cars. People going out to bars. Noise of humans. Still holding onto the note, I returned to Mr. Ball's office to pour myself a drink, I noticed that the portrait on the wall was gone.