Sam had worked at the museum for decades; so long, he was like one of the artefacts. One day, in the Modern Masters Gallery, he noticed a nasty smear on one of the pictures. The painter was a local man, long dead and one of the founders of the modern movement.
The piece was called Line. As the title suggests it was a single black line on a white canvas.
Sam had every good intention as he approached it with his bright orange duster.
But as he left the painting it was less of a line, more of a nothing.