Neverminding that I was sick and hacking for almost all of last week, this week’s picture was just hard to work with. If it was a running faucet, it would have been fine- nice and easy to make it into a story about excess and indulgence. If it was a dripping faucet, it would have been fine- nice and easy to make it into a story about deprivation, emptiness, and wanting.
Instead though, this was just a faucet. Just a dry, static faucet.
Just what am I supposed to even do with that?!
Word Count: 100
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Title: Heaven on Earth
Nobody mentioned how lonely heaven-on-earth is.
“Why the frown?” my friend asked me.
“I forgot what it’s like down there,” I said. From this sacred artist monastery, this golden perch with velvet rope bars, I can barely see the foggy (supposed) Hell below.
“Don’t even waste a thought on the Down-There,” he said. “Look around you.”
I looked around me. It was the same breathtaking beauty a painter like myself would cry with joy over. But now I’m parchment-dry.
“I want to work at Target,” I said. “I want to remember the world.”
My friend just gaped and sputtered nonsense.
I wish I had more space to sculpt the actual physical space that the “I” and the “friend” occupy. I actually did want to put it up on a mountain monastery looking down on suburbia. I’m just going to ignore the very likely situation that there are no high mountain monasteries located anywhere within eyeshot of a Target.
Oh well, maybe it’s all supposed to be METAPHORICAL~ anyway.
I just had a dry faucet to deal with!
Good luck, you brave writer folk!