I was doodling this off-and-on between projects at work back in March of 2019, but never got around to finishing it.
![](https://i0.wp.com/www.psychoandy.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/minotaur2019.png?resize=586%2C877&ssl=1)
One of my coworkers walked past my desk, and saw this. Out of nowhere, he says “Whoa, that looks wicked! I like that he’s all brutal and evil-looking. I wish I could draw, but I was always the kind of kid that, if I got a ten-minute detention, I’d have a tear rolling down my cheek.”
“Hold on,” I say. “… what?”
Somehow, my drawing of a minotaur reminded him of a time that he CRIED because he got a ten-minute detention, way back in school, like, thirty-something years ago.
Was he sad that he couldn’t draw? Did he get detention for being bad at drawing? I don’t think teachers are allowed to do that.
He got called away by one of the managers, so I never found out how that connection was made in his brain. But…what?