Splat

He was fired, and he couldn’t believe it. So what if he showed up to work, a little worse for wear? It wasn’t his fault that his paintings were larger than life. He supposed the mourning of the death couldn’t comprehend his need to make his paintings perfect, that being a funeral director was just his side job to being able to paint his heart away at home. Although showing up covered in paint splatters was less than professional, now he was beginning to see their point. It just wasn’t the right fit for him, Splat had to find a profession that properly acknowledged his role in life as a painter first, a worker second. It wasn’t that hard to understand, was it?