By Sam Olson
I am sore, sad, and empty; anyone can see that. But unseen is your photo on my dresser. I take care that the scent on your shirt does not mingle with mine.
Your shoes wait patiently by the door. In the evening, when the sky is like backlit cotton, I think of you.
Hair. Body. Blue glass eyes. The art you almost were.
On some days I wish it had been different, but I cannot say I regret what I did to you. The real art was the kill, and then the restoration. Now you are part of my private collection.
Brilliant
I had to think about that one – bit of a shiver…
Yes, intriguing and shivering. Well done.
Superb. Thought provoking.
You had me at “backlit cotton”. Well done!
It does not make sense to me that a photo that is out on a dresser is unseen. Anyone who enters the room can see it.
Then, I wonder: were the blue “glass eyes” literally glass?
The rest of this I understood and enjoyed very much.
Brava Sam! Really well done.
Too obvious.
I can feel but can not see full story. I can understand that you are restoring but not clear how was it killed.