The sculptor brushed a cloth over the statue’s face. It was another perfect masterpiece. All that was left was for it to awaken.
He washed the marble dust from his hands and thanked the gods for his mysterious gift.
He nodded to the painter as he left. He would have preferred to have his work untouched, but such were the whims of culture.
She set to work, gripping her brush lightly in gnarled old hands. She painted the eyes first and then the mouth. The statue yawned and blinked as her paints brought color and life to the dead stone.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

Advertisement