A Blank Canvas.
May 16, 2012
He: Where are we?
She: *Glances around* In a blank canvas.
He: What do you mean?
She: Shall I be a smartaleck and give you a literal definition of the two words?
He: Must you always be so exasperating?
She: Must you always be so easily won over by exasperation?
She: *sighs* This place is a blank, an empty space with no direction meant for you to fill it with anything you want.
He: Why is it so cloudy and misty then?
She: Because plain white is boring. And it makes me feel like I am a prisoner in a 60’s futuristic flick…. Does it ever occur to you just how close we are to so many of the years used as the future in those movies?
He: What?? What on earth does the year have to do with where we are?
She: It could perhaps have nothing to do with it, or it could be everything to it. That’s the point, this place, is only a beginning.
He: A beginning to what? All I see is gray fog. *turns in a slow circle* Just fog *pauses* and dead roses?
She: Well they can’t live forever you know.
He: How is a dead rose a beginning? It is dead!
She: *plucks a flower and gently strips the petals* This is how. *lays the dried hip in his hand*
He: *stares blankly* What am I supposed to do with this?
She: *sighs and walks away*
He: Where are you going?! *wildly glancing* Why is everything all black now!?
She: *from a distance* Because all you ever see are dead ends.
Written for the Blue Writer’s challenge. http://www.bluecanvas.com/art-detail/378423