Hey, welcome back to the podcast. I really hope you enjoy this episode. And if you'd like to hear more

stories like these with a different background sound, please check the description to check out my other two

podcasts. And if you want to get rid of all of the ads, you can subscribe for just $2.99 a month.

Last thing, I really appreciate you being here. And I'd really love if you would follow the podcast

and come

back again soon. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy.

The painting had been put up for auction at a local event raising money for charity.

It was an original, according to the auctioneer, by an obscure but talented artist from the early

1900s.

It was almost the end of the day, and I had yet to see anything that caught my fancy.

But the moment the painting was unveiled, I felt something stir in my chest, and I knew I had to

have it. Nobody else seemed quite as enthused as me about the portrait, and winning it had been

a relatively simple affair. After countering a few other vaguely interested buyers, I managed

to secure it for myself.

I had it wrapped up in a piece of old, moth-eaten cloth that was found in the auction warehouse,

and I stowed it in the back of my car, excited to find a place for it in my home.

I was a collector of sorts, mostly of antiques and other knick-knacks, so it would fit right in with the assortment of old ceramic pots and tarnished clocks and statues that I had sitting in my display cabinet.

On the way home from the auction, I started to feel restless.

I wasn't sure if it was because the auction had lasted longer

than I expected, or because I was tired, or something else. But I struggled to focus on driving

and almost pulled out right in front of another car as I turned at the junction leading left

towards my house. When I finally pulled into the driveway of my semi-detached,

...