chestercopperpot

Clipped and tied. 'Its ready' he thought, stepping back to look on it with a gllint of pride in his eyes. The white light of the room picked up its flaws immeadiately, and his heart sank a little, not alot but enough. 'Well, where it is going the light will be less" as if dimmer surroundings would camouflage his errors. Were there errors? Really? An artist always feels there were things he wished he could have back, or change slightly...but was he the only one who noticed this? If no one else knew the image in his minds eye, how in reality he had fallen short, would they pick up on it?

No time for that now. Carefully he picked the bomb up and loaded it into a velvet lined Fedex box. 'The velvet is a nice touch' he muttered to himself. Gently he secured the lid of the box into place.