taBOO CrewClit-clack, clit-clack, went the spray can as I shook it. Pop! The top came off and into my pocket, I gripped the can as tightly in my hand as my resperator was strapped to my face. I pushed down on the nozzle and out came a spray of black particles that collected into a whole as they assembled together on the wall. Even with the resperator on, the faint smell of not quite alive, yet not quite dead seeped into my eyes and swirled around in my senses. The smell of fresh black paint and dieing brain cells, sweet and sharp shooting through my lungs into my blood, coarsing in every fiber of my body. And my hand moves up and down, curves and swirls. Stop - next letter, and now the smells and tastes, they intensify and now my adrenaline begins to show and my stomach tingles and my hands jitter with warm spirts of anticipation. Then just when I get to love this, the feeling is like bliss, "Done!" I shout, time to move to the next wall and it's there that the feeling, will come again.