[ IP ] Tell me the story behind this painting .

The Seine shimmered under the Parisian dusk and street lamps as Sasha stalked his prey along the riverbank. Memories of the Svislach in Minsk or Vistula in Warsaw flooded back to mind. The cold winter air, the blatant late Soviet era jew-bashing. Sasha could n't wait to wrap up this hit so he can get back to his tropical paradise in the Yucatan. Whatever appeal North American tourists saw in big, cold European cities, he will never understand. Alright, time to focus up, he thought. Let's get back to the task at hand. Man, woman, two dogs. 
 Sasha closed the distance just as they reached the bridge, just as the river tour boat pulled into station on the other side. 
 
 `` Pardon moi, monsieur, madame. I have been painting this area tonight and have captured your images as part of it. I would like for you to have this.'' 
 
 The Manchester terrier remained calm at first, but soon chimed in with the smaller white terrier as he started barking upon the sudden approach of this stranger. 
 
 `` Baxter! shush. You want to give us a painting?'' The man asked, perplexed. `` Why, that's very generous of you, but we've got our hands full tonight as you can see.'' 
 
 `` Wow, I love the vibrant colors. You painted this jus now?'' The woman inquired. 
 
 `` How incredible. Unbelievably rich in detail. How did you do this so fast? We could n't have strolled past you more than 10 minutes...'' 
 
 `` I have a....how you say... photographic memory,'' Sasha lied, `` it's a gift, I do my best work in the moment. Please reconsider, I have this special carrying bag with two straps, you can wear it on your back like a backpack.'' 
 
 Something about the pushiness of this stranger made the man feel uneasy, but his wife seemed to really like the painting. He was drawn to it as well, something about the scenery made it very alluring. Why would anyone give away a work of art randomly for free? It was a really good oil on canvas, the fresh brush strokes have yet to dry. 
 
 The woman responded before her husband could reply. 
 `` Of course we will take it. You put so much work into this, how could we refuse? Thank you for this generosity! Do you have a gallery of work or a business card?'' 
 
 `` We have an Etsy store, you can find us here,'' Sasha handed her a card. `` Please check out the rest of my work.'' 
 
 `` Wait, your accent. Are you Ukrainian?'' The man responded. 
 
 Sasha smiled. `` Belarusian. Vitebsk.'' 
 
 `` How Incredible. My father used to work just a few hundred kilometers from there!'' 
 
 `` What a small world! We must stay in touch. Please drop me a line with the email on the card.'' The tour boat made their last calls for passengers as Sasha began to make his getaway. `` I apologize for this hasty goodbye, but I must catch this boat. Au revoir!'' 
 
 Before the couple could say a proper farewell, Sasha jumped onto the Seine river tour. The couple waved him goodbye as they strolled back to their Parisian apartment nearby with their new painting. 
 
 As the tour guide girl began to introduce the local landmarks between German and Italian translations, Sasha Viber-called The Old Man. 
 
 `` They took the painting?'' The old artist asked. 
 
 `` They always take the painting. Who's next?'' Sasha replied. 
 
 He knew there was fifteen more to go. The magic the old man conjured with his work no longer mesmerized Sasha. How could anyone suspect such benign and beautiful paintings would slowly poison them with radiation over time? Everyone of his victims believed Sasha when he told them they were painted fresh on the spot. Who could have guessed some arthritis-plagued old man in Mexico was exacting vengeance for Chernobyl on them for the sins of their fathers and grandfathers? The ability to see into and paint scenes from the future, and brushstrokes that liquify months after being first laid on canvas just as present time lapse in synch with the subject timeline. 
 
 `` Istanbul,'' the Old Man finally responded over on the other line as he scanned through his notes. `` Haliç.'' 
 
 Right on the Golden Horn, Sasha recalled. Another scenic view. 

