The hou of the sculptress stood in the middle of an abandoned quarry where limestone had been carved away, to leave a pray, almost surreal landscape. She had this site purpoly, believing correctly that the starkness might force her imagination into blossom.
There were times in the night, when she heard the wind and the cries of coyotes, she felt she was in the dert. Yet the hou was only a short distance from Taxco, the silver miown, near enough to nd her gardener Ramon for food and supplies when needed.
Now as she lay awake she felt something akin to doubt, or was it expectation? The moon full, it glowed with chalky light and made her bed effervest.
Moonlight played iudio as well, making shadows on the walls and on her nearly pleted sculpture. Moonlight danced on the figure of the Mexi girl still emerging from stone, so much like Michelangelo’s captives from the Boboli Gardens.
She turned on her side, her insomnia gaining on her. She decided that she didn’t feel fear. She had lived alone so long she feared nothing. Now if she felt anything in her bed in the gleaming quarry, it was regret. But she had made the right decision, to fire Ramon. Still she khat, after nearly a quarter of tury, Ramon was the only family she had, perhaps ever had. She had always felt distant from her own people, even as she lived among them. They thought her mad, or at least unbalanced.
The hou of the sculptress stood in the middle of an abandoned quarry where limestone had been carved away, to leave a pray, almost surreal landscape. She had this site purpoly, believing correctly that the starkness might force her imagination into blossom.
There were times in the night, when she heard the wind and the cries of coyotes, she felt she was in the dert. Yet the hou was only a short distance from Taxco, the silver miown, near enough to nd her gardener Ramon for food and supplies when needed.
Now as she lay awake she felt something akin to doubt, or was it expectation? The moon full, it glowed with chalky light and made her bed effervest.
Moonlight played iudio as well, making shadows on the walls and on her nearly pleted sculpture. Moonlight danced on the figure of the Mexi girl still emerging from stone, so much like Michelangelo’s captives from the Boboli Gardens.
She turned on her side, her insomnia gaining on her. She decided that she didn’t feel fear. She had lived alone so long she feared nothing. Now if she felt anything in her bed in the gleaming quarry, it was regret. But she had made the right decision, to fire Ramon. Still she khat, after nearly a quarter of tury, Ramon was the only family she had, perhaps ever had. She had always felt distant from her own people, even as she lived among them. They thought her mad, or at least unbalanced.