Grown Man Holding a Teddy Bear

There's a painting of a grown man holding a teddy bear. It's hanging in Trevor's local gallery.

"How is this art?" he asks his wife Sophie. "Some dumb asshole has just painted a picture of a grown man holding a teddy bear and some other dumb asshole has declared that it's art. It's bullshit. Oh, nine hundred dollar bullshit by the way."

"Look at his eyes," Sophie says. "Something has happened. In his life I mean. He's sad. And lonely. And angry. God, look at his face. He's angry."

"I'm fucking angry," says Trevor. "Some dick faced dickhead is going to make nine hundred dollars from that. Do you know how many hours I have to work to make nine hundred dollars?"

"About fifteen I guess."

"Yeah, well. It probably took him about five minutes to paint that shit," says Trevor.

"It's haunting. I think his wife has left him and she's taken the kids. Or they're dead. Look at his fists. His hair. Jesus, this is really affecting me."

"Yeah, it's affecting me too," says Trevor. "Makes me want to stab some bullshit artist in the face with a hammer."

Sophie is silent for a few moments. Her eyes are fixed on the painting. She's crying now.

"Here we go," says Trevor.

Sophie turns to her husband. Her hands are shaking.

"I know about her," she says. Her voice is not strong.

"Nothing's going on," says Trevor. "I swear to god."

"I'm not talking about that skank slut Julie, Trevor. I'm talking about the woman in that painting."

"All I see up there is a grown assed man and a teddy bear. Not a woman in sight."

"That's our daughter's teddy bear," Sophie says.

"Our daughter's what?"

"I'm leaving," Sophie says.

"Hold up," says Trevor. "Let me grab my coat."