*A man is seen wading into a dark cave, armed with nothing more than a small cross as the water churns around him.*
I glanced over at the next exhibit.
*A young girl clad in little more than rag and skin over jutting bones hands over a dropped coin to a fat merchant.*
My eyes continued on.
*A teenage girl looks into a prisoner's eyes, hands holding on to a small child resembling the both of them. The guard behind him mouths "Rapist bastard".*
The exhibits only seem to get more grotesque.
*An elderly man sits upon the porch, watching the vultures circle the clouds. Some have already descended upon the house.*
I closed my eyes, catching a moment.
*A beggar mother carves bits of her own flesh to feed her starving son.*
I knelt down, rubbing my temples, which had started to throb. The exhibits were not just an artist's illustrations - it was a perverse salutation that recognized the dark sides of virtue and principles.
There was so much wrongness in this world, so much suffering.
Carefully, I poised my neck around the noose and kicked away the chair.
*A man hangs from a noose while looking out at the dark truths of the world.*
*A person resembling you sits facing a screen of light - maybe a computer? a phone? - while another figure watches from behind their back.*