In the attic space he rented for half his wage, the man flung off his overcoat and began to paint that canvas more colours than anyone had ever seen.
He painted a leather-clad mystery, jetting through the night on his motorcycle. Mission in mind he fled along the forest highway, focused and intent. But what was his intent?
There it was. There was his prize, his purpose and his goal.
...just off the edge of the frame.