Prompt: You are a piece of art.

---

I didn’t see her right away.

My knees knocked as I stumbled backward, biting my tongue that had a string of curses ready to fire like a cartridge of bullets in a gun. Though my glare was surely venomous, the old man remained unharmed as he shouldered past me. If I’d known an art museum could be such a battle ground, I never would have agreed to come with my friend.

The corridors were two people wide with barely any space to hold the swelling throb of people. Who knew an exhibit on 19th Century Paris could attract aesthetes like flies? I’d lost my friend long ago, resigned to the fact that they would have to find my needle in this large haystack when they were ready to leave.

Read more