Blues in the Night
Mary Grammerly, alone on a deserted stretch of a suburban street, resolutely faced the expanse of a white, calcimined wall. She would NOT succumb to her ... addiction. Though an electric desire to graffitize this blank panel threatened to zap her resolve and prove impossible to resist, she was determined to keep the can of spray paint tucked firmly in her coat pocket.
You see, Mary belonged to Graffiti Anonymous, recently created when the City Council made it a misdemeanor to deface public property with spray-painted messages. The understanding council also had authorized for a year the use of a wall of a currently unoccupied business complex to help members of Graffiti Anonymous in their lonely struggles.
Graffiti Anonymous encouraged its members to visit the wall and face it down, so to speak, without committing graffiti upon it. So far the wall remained unblemished. Mary meant to leave it that way. Though the fingers on her right hand fondled the spray can in her pocket, she steeled herself against the urge to draw it and fire away.
Just then a heavy-set man approached on soundless, rubber-soled shoes. Mary now recalled lurid newspaper accounts of a Midnight Attacker who roamed these very streets after dark. The attacker preyed on women walking alone. Mary realized too late that she should not have come here by herself.
The man leapt forward aggressively. He roughly grabbed Mary's left arm in a grip remindful of a blood-pressure sleeve. Mary cried out and lurched off balance.
Midnight Attacker makes the mistake of annoying a woman trying to let wall enough alone.
As she stumbled back her right hand tightened around the spray can. Without a seconds hesitation, and with practiced skill, Mary withdrew the can from her pocket. She aimed its nozzle at the man's leering lips, and deliberately pressed the firing button.
A thick blue mist hit the man's face. Mary's eyes began to glisten as she felt the container's metallic magic course from fingertip to brain like a fast-acting drug.
The man, blinded and clawing at his face, fell helplessly to the ground, but Mary continued spraying. She sprayed his face, his hands, his hair and his clothing to a clotted, dripping cobalt.
Mary's cheeks, fear-paled by the attack, now glowed with realized gratification. She sprayed and sprayed and sprayed.
Eventually, the can fizzled dry, but not before a startled passerby notified police, who came and arrested a very blue Midnight Attacker.