Daniel stood shrouded in the dark of the desert night, the halo of light pollution from the city behind him blotting out the stars. The electric billboard before him cast its own glow into the night, a spore of civilization blown here along the winds of the interstate highway system. His wife, Lily, sat in their car, watching him with a perplexed expression.
He gazed up at the images cycling across its surface, searching the airbrushed faces displayed there as though they held some sort of answer for him. He had passed this spot many times in his life, but he had never really seen this billboard, not in the way he saw it now. It had simply faded into the same insidious buzz as every other ad he had seen in his life.
There was a soft pop as he removed the cap from the can of spray paint he held in his hands.
***
“Do I look ok?”
Daniel looked up from scrolling on his phone. “Lily, you look beautiful. You always do.”
“Are you sure? I don’t think my makeup is sticking to my nose right…”
“Sweetie, trust me. You look beautiful, I promise.”
***
Standing on the narrow ledge that protruded from the bottom edge of the billboard, Daniel began to spray onto its surface. The paint was a bright crimson, but against the harsh light of the screen it looked like a spot of darkness. Moving his aim, he carved a tear into the monument of hyper-idealized human forms.
“Honey, what are you doing?” Lily had gotten out of the car when her husband had climbed up onto the billboard. “Get down from there, you’ll hurt yourself!”
The first stroke having been completed, Daniel shook the can and prepared to create another. He focused on the rattle of the spray paint, the pathway he intended for his next slash, and the burning rage seated in his chest.
***
“I know,” Lily said. Her hair veiled part of her face, reflecting the glow of the city lights out the window. “I just don’t feel beautiful.”
“Every time I look at you, I think otherwise. You’ve always been beautiful, no matter how you look.”
“You say that, and I know you believe it. But thinking back, there’s never been a time in my life where I could look at myself in the mirror and see it.”
***
Moving with careful precision along the ledge, Daniel unleashed his righteous fury upon the icon of self-loathing displayed before him. With his paint he cut gashes of silence into the inane noise, allowing himself to become lost in the act of unshakable defiance. The injustice of Lily’s words, the travesty of how the world had scarred her self-image, could not go unpunished. And so, as though screaming in the face of a storm, he blocked out the light of the billboard.
When his work had been finished, Daniel worked his way back to the ground and walked back to his wife.
“What was that? Honey, are you ok?”
Daniel took his wife’s hand, holding it for a moment in his own. Then he placed the can of spray paint in her palm, and closed her fingers around it. The words weren’t there, but he felt she needed it to defend herself. He could distantly feel himself beginning to sob. Lily pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him.