Sunday Writing Prompt ~ Untitled Masterpiece

6

“FANTASTIC!” proclaimed Avi LeBline.

“The feelings it portrays, how people rise up and fall within the totataliarian confines of society..the colors and strokes…all so beautifully portrayed in this”

The “this” that noted art critic Avi LeBline was raving about was Westfield Galleries latest painting acquisition. Simply entitled “This is mine.” The painting was done by a relative newcomer to the abstract art world, one Mr. Oscar Malone. His painting had been seen by some recent employers of his and they in turn helped get Mr. Malone’s work to be put on display.

“This man is a genius, So much attention to detail and such raw passion!” Avi had a small group of followers standing by him (like he always does), mesmerized by his words within every critique. His opnions on paintings were known to make or break the career of an artist.

“Where is Mr. Malone? I simply must speak with the genious behind this masterpiece”. Avi and his entourage looked around the gallery, finalling spotting Mr. Malone walking towards them. The group started to applaud as he stepped up to them, embarassing Mr. Malone a bit.

“My dear fellow, You have taken my breath away with this piece! Please take us in your mind, tell us your inspiration for such mastery.” Avi turned to look at the piece once again, in awe.

Mr. Malone looked around at the small group now paying full attention to his every word.

“Oh, this?” Malone said as he pointed up to his artwork.

“Well, I got the idea for this after the sausage sandwich I had for lunch last week. See, I own my own paintin’ business. Me and my partner were working on the insides of these new offices downtown and we started arguing over can belch the loudest. Next thing ya know, we started throwing paint at each other…”

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Inspired by the Sunday Writing Prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and The Haunted Wordsmith’s #19 genre writing prompt. (comedy)

Tale Weaver – Decaffeinated

4

Risen from tombs where they wanted to stay

The instinct of hunger leading their way

Shambling slow at the pace of a snail

All are infected be them male or female

Their questioning groans beyond understanding

Looking for something to just have them keep standing

The ones who once loved them now seek places to hide

Until the needs of these things will soon hopefully be satisfied

There’s an answer to stopping these ill creatures by ending their pain

Its not what you think and angrily bashing in their brains

Why do such violence when they’re not walking zombies in undead misery?

They are everyday people who simply need brewed their first cup of morning coffee

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Written for this week’s Tale Weaver prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/