photo by Al, the Sunday Fictioner.
The triplets preened their fur. The Woodlands art show opened tonight. Their sister, Tekva, had passed the juried selection process.
Her sculpture was prominently placed at the first turn in the show path. Tekva hadn’t let her family see even the rough sketches from sittings. Late into the night, her chisel chipping at stone became another part of the soundscape.
She had shrouded the final piece; she wanted it to be a surprise to every one, even her family. The triplets suspected it would be a critique on society, culture, norms, and authority. Tekva’s art (she worked in multiple mediums) was always a statement. Tekva enjoyed using them as models. They posed as symbols of homelessness, poverty, hypocrisy, spirituality, acts of kindness, violence, abuse. Each piece had required multiple sittings, leaving the triplets feeling pretzelized. Tekva usually had to explain the symbolism and statement of her art to them.
As they rounded the first turn, there it was. Captured in stone. Worried, scared and insane. Or were they watching a horror/slasher movie? Whatever. They thought the sculpture brought out the best side of their craft – acting.