#WritcoStoryChallenge
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember how when or why. What's going on with me. I couldn't have stolen it. I crept out of the the studio. I can't believe I'm attempting this. I'm must be on some medicine. I kneel down behind a bush, the painting tucked safely in my jacket. If I get this back to my mother, she could sell it and have enough money for my family and I to fly to Greece. Ohh.. now I remember why I have the painting. But this is still crazy. Stealing an expensive painting from a world renowned painter. Now thats just bizarre. I see a bus coming up at a bus stop. That might just draw attention to the painting though. With the bus idea cleared from my mind I decide to just walk home. I have to get past the studio guard first. All I have to do is go around the building. Duh.
As I run behind the building, I see my house around the corner, across the street. Crossing the street quickly and quietly, I make my way around the back to the kitchen door. I open the door, and there they stand, clubs in hand, ready to knock me out with one quick blow. Police guards, waiting for me...........