Masterpiece - Fiction

   You know, being your greatest piece of art isn’t one of the easiest things in this kind of area. And yes, before you raise your black eyebrows in amazement, interrupt and question me, I know everything. I am your astonishing masterpiece that was created from a big block of marble on a cold winter’s night. That night when the wind was swirling and tiny hailstones were falling from the intensively black sky. Before me, you had made a lot of others, but I was and still am, the best. As you can finally see, I already know more than you could have ever expected. I have remembered how you first imagined me in your mind and how you carefully considered about my shape. Oh, and yes, how you had a supposition that only I could give you such incredible inspiration. Maybe it’s a bit of a pity to say this, but it really is so wonderful that you’ve finished me in time.

   Her thoughts were interrupted by the first sunbeams that touched her pale cold skin. And she felt… nothing. Standing there on her pedestal in the middle of one of the galleries in the Museum of Modern Art, she looked to the bright sunlight and how it is reflected from the cars that are being driven fast on the adjacent road.

   Lots of people came on this sunny morning. Some of them walked by slowly as if they were in a dream. A group of students visited the exhibition with their teacher, because of the school projects. Tourists took photos from different angles and quickly rushed back to the museum’s guide. Several couples came holding hands and whispering something again and again to each other. And when the time came, the museum closed once more.

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