by ELIZABETH BARTON 21 by Didriks | Flickr Leila feigned interest in the nearest sculpture as she moved behind it, glancing quickly over each shoulder to make sure there was no one in back of her—all clear. With the artwork as cover, she wriggled her hips, reached underneath the skirt of her sky-blue charmeuse gown, and tugged on the legs of her shapewear shorts. They had ridden up into a torturously uncomfortable position. That’d teach her to buy knockoff Spanx. She sighed, relieved of her discomfort. With that off her mind, she regarded the sculpture in front of her. Was sculpture even the right word? Installation? Heck, she should just call it what it was: A pile of avocados. It’s not that Leila didn’t enjoy contemporary art. She just preferred her art to be more…accessible. But this? Leila circled the pedestal beneath the heap of green-black produce, searching for its label--Seeking Salutations. This kind of stuff she did not get. It seemed pretentious and purposefully abstruse. Worse, it was a waste of perfectly good avocados! Plus, knowing how quickly they went from rock hard to complete mush, she wouldn’t be surprised if Avocado Swapper constituted a full-time position at the museum. |
by JUSTIN DILL
by P. L. WATTS
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domo slurpee / Rakka / Flickr
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May 2022
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