Kreative Kue 22, issued on this site last week, asked for submissions based on a photograph the famous Three Graces sculpture in the Louvre.
“God, isn’t the curve of her bottom simply marvellous, Jude? It just seems so much more exquisite because it’s made of the hardest Carraran marble. Do you even realise how difficult it would have be to excavate that rock?”
I glanced over at her, but she was face deep in a sandwich and scrolling through her phone.
“Jude, really? You can’t put the boy down for five minutes? This is meant to be a girls trip.”
She scoffed at me and used the sandwich to gesture over to the corner of the gallery.
Everything went dark. Something was shoved over my head and my arms wrenched behind my back.
“Jude… Jude. Help me,” I screamed as a writhing panic crawled across my skin. I wriggled and squirmed trying to get free of the spade like hands gripping me in place. I was lifted from the ground and carried for what felt like an age.
Why was no one in the gallery stopping to help? What’s wrong with these people?
I was dropped into a chair and the black bag covering my face ripped off.
“Jack, you arse. What the hell is going on?”
Jack’s big brown eyes and floppy blonde hair looked up at me. He was grinning and knelt in front of me.
I scanned the huge room I was in. It was an empty gallery. Just me, and him, and…
“Oh my god, it’s the D’arcy. Look, Jack, look,” I said standing up and flapping at the site of the only painting in the room. One I had adored my entire life.
I felt the familiar rough skin of Jack’s hand cup my own. He was still knelt on the floor.
“I’ve loved you for a long time, Lara, and I will continue to love you like D’arcy’s timeless art, for eternity.”
I’d lost myself staring at D’arcy’s masterpiece, but Jack’s words slowly filtered through my mind.
“Wait, what?” I said turning to face him.
“Lara Julia Johnson, will you marry me?”
My breath caught, my chest tight, I let go of his hand and squealed.
“Yes, Yes, a thousand Yes’s,” D’arcy masterpiece faded into the background as I gazed at the love of my life, my fiancé, I bent close and planted a kiss on his lips, one, two, three more. “But honey, the kidnapping really wasn’t necessary!”
just one more
the touch of now
the spell of then
step off the marble
My own effort is entitled “The muses confuses“.
Meanwhile, let’s see what we can do with this image:
Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene or poem, and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at email@example.com before 6pm on Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you).
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries, with links to your own blog or web site, next Monday.