As a child, I was always loved to draw. One year, I got a Jon Gnagy instructional book for Christmas. It was full of projects designed to teach young artists how to draw a chubby-cheeked Mexican boy standing outside an adobe hacienda. I also loved those ads that challenged us to draw Winky” or “Lucky” and win a $10 cash prize. Somehow I always lost out to that short, little Jewish girl from Kansas City. Fifty years later, she bests me at writing too. Some things never change.
The last time I exposed myself to art, I was arrested for indecent exposure and destruction of public property. Who knew that a 300 yr. old marble statue could laugh? When I threw open my trench coat in front of the sculpture it cracked up—literally. I’m just glad the Mona Lisa wasn’t there. They’d still be trying to get that toothy grin off her face.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fictions, the curator of Literary Art is the esteemed W. C. (Wilmena Claudette) Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a booth in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Lucinda unlocked the back door and entered the kitchen. The furnishings had been rearranged and the oil lamps were burning. An eerie glow filled the room.
She took a quick inventory of her belongings. The only thing missing was a large invisible box she kept next to the refrigerator. Who would steal that?
The police dispatched Detective Lowry to investigate the crime. He checked for fingerprints. They must have worn gloves.
After taking Lucinda’s statement he started to leave, then noticed a white smudge on the mirror. It was face-paint.
“Damn those mimes,” he muttered. “I should have known.”
Here’s a blast from the past.