Friday, February 10, 2017

The Painting

I go to the museum every day. When the front door opens, I enter, wave my pass at the security guards and walk straight to the painting.
I sit in front of it, next to her ghost.
Can't blame her for haunting that place. I wouldn't want to stay at the cemetery either.
Every day I hope to see what she saw in the painting.
It never works.
Her ghost often teases me, whispers that I am a Luddite when it comes to art.
I can live with that.
She was a Luddite when it came to my model trains.

0 comments:

Post a Comment

Hi!

I am so grateful for your visit, and a comment would make my day!

💜

 

Currently on Twitter

I'm a survivor

I'm a survivor

Search This Blog

Creative Commons License
This work by Sylvia van Bruggen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Template based on Happy Kiddies by Ipietoon