Welcome to the Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is to write about a statue.
Today’s contribution comes from RC Bonitz, author of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART.
Magic in a Gallery
It wasn’t much of a gallery, an old barn remodeled and restored, sitting by the roadside with a sign out front. David Redmond Francis. Nothing but the name. Will figured the guy was either famous, pompous, or just plain promoting.
He’d driven by a hundred times on his route, always too busy to stop, but today he had some time. And a sudden growing curiosity. He pulled into the tiny parking lot and got out of his car.
The barn had partitions breaking up the space, separating rooms of sculptures one from another. Will wasn’t much for sculpture, but this guy Francis created interesting stuff. Will ambled through the first two rooms and turned a corner. And stopped.
A marble statue of a life sized woman stood on a pedestal at the center of the room. She took his breath away. Beautiful, elegant, glowing with life, she stunned his very soul. Supple muscles, faultless skin and an oh so lively face. He stood there, rooted to the spot, entranced and staring. The sculptor loved this woman; his love was there for all to see. Will shivered. He couldn’t fall in love with a statue, but she was working magic on his heart.
“She’s not for sale,” a woman’s voice said behind him.
He didn’t turn. “She’s beautiful. Incredible.”
“She was his masterpiece. He never did another human figure.”
“When was she done? Carved or chiseled or whatever you call it.”
The woman laughed, a soft throaty laugh. “1989.”
He almost turned to face her, but the woman on the pedestal kept him hypnotized. “She must be about fifty now, the model I mean.”
He gasped. “You know her?”
“She’s my mother,” the woman murmured.
He spun around- and stared. Dark hair and sparkling eyes, she wore a sleeveless dress, but her skin was smooth as glass, her body as elegant, her face as lovely as the sculpture. She was his statue come alive.
“You…” he trailed off, speechless.
“They say I look like her,” she said, then extended her hand. “I’m Kate. Kate Francis.”
With a nod he took her hand, warm and electric. “Will Dupont. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She smiled. “The pleasure is all mine.”
The Spot Writers- our members.
Catherine A. MacKenzie