It was just over an hour later when Peter stepped back, the brush dropping back to the clutter of paints. His hands, each one liberally splattered with paint, dropped back to his sides. Eyes slid shut as his head dropped forward...
And then he opened his eyes, color and comprehension filling them now, and he took a breath, turning away from the painting he wasn't quite ready to look at yet. Instead, his eyes went to his watch, noting the time he had lost, and frowning slightly at the yellow and black paint on his fingers.