The stranger said, “I’ve come to buy something.”
“One of the pieces. Something you’ve done. That one,” the stranger pointed at a mosaic on the wall.
“What do you mean? I have money… quite a lot.”
“No, I mean… they’re part of the wall. It won’t come off. It can’t go with you.”
The stranger nodded. “I know. I knew before I came.” He put a fat envelope on the table. “Here.”
The artist watched as the stranger walked over, put his hand onto the mosaic, melted into it. The new owner stared silently from within his scene.
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