Desire sniffed her plastic wineglass and grimaced. Nudging her shoulder, her brother Dream came up behind her. Sighing they both stared blankly at the canvas before them. The hum of the gallery’s halogen blended with the murmur from the sparse crowd around the free bar.

“What is it?” Desire whispered.

“Maybe, it’s hung the wrong way?” Dream answered.

The Endless siblings cocked their heads to one side. The globs of chewed gum and fingerprints covering the giant canvas looked just as confusing in landscape mode as in portrait mode. Guzzling from a bottle of mid-range Chablis, Despair joined them.

“Trust me that won’t help,” Despair said. “I’ve haunted artist studios from Paris to Pennsauken and I know crapola when I see it.”

“Well we can’t say that. Desire, you’re the poet. You have to come up with something wonderful to say before Death comes over here and asks what we all think,” Dream said.

“Look, first we went through Death’s whole standup comedian phase, glassblowing, then funky macrame. I still have all those squishy pull pots from her pottery kick. We’re immortals with the ability to shape humanity and big sis spends all her corporeal time making weird stuff. Let’s just tell him the truth and get tacos,” Despair said despairingly.

“Dude, Mom would kill us. Quick think of something classy,” Desire said.

Despair snorted while Dream scratched his head. Concentrating, all three siblings tipped their heads to the other side. Dressed in her typical all-black but with a jaunty beret instead of her hooded shroud, Death walked over. She watched her family confused. Death cleared her throat. The trio jumped in surprise. Desire drained her glass.

“Guys I am so thrilled you came out to support my show. But why are you staring at this old access panel?”

"