Storm noticed something, an object dangling down in the distance. It was a painting. Unusually, it was strangely appealing and intriguing for such an ancient looking portrait: it’s frame was ornate, bronze flowers intwined around dated metal rotting away; the figures were fading although their frowns and ghost-like eyes told a story like none other; the background was gloomy and the rigid edges of the wildly painted mountains spiked up and down – it was inviting Storm in. She wandered towards the captivating painting; it was irresistible.

A mysterious figure emerged from the dark outskirts of the shop, revealing his face from under his mask – which to him was like the escape from reality. “I see you’ve discovered my painting,” he wondered curiously if she was the one, the special one. He was hesitant at first but eventually edged forwards closer to Storm,”Do you like it?”

Reluctantly, Storm replied, hoping it wasn’t a terrific trap that would embarrass her. She was courageous, she thought, so she tightened her knuckles and stood sturdily whilst struggling to keep focus on the man and maintain a smile. “Yes very much, it is very… intriguing and… interesting.” Well I’m not lying, she said to herself, I was drawn to it.