The graffiti was bright neon pink and yellow on a drab concrete wall, and its sudden appearance was the only bright spot in a long and dull winter. So when Shanna walked past the artist (stopping only briefly to admire his tight black jeans) and dialed for security, it was with some small twinge of regret.
When security arrived, they found only an empty aerosol can and a plastic water bottle half-filled with cheap wine. Shanna shrugged and said to skip the fingerprints, and looked halfheartedly through next year's budget for cleaning and repairs.
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