No one knew there was a flaw. They admired the piece for what it was, perfectly un-perfect. The artist tried to hide the anger welling up, covering it with a look of aloofness, like it was just another day. It would be remembered as the artist’s greatest piece regardless.
The doors opened and the crowed walked in, eager to see the latest creation. The artist stood proud, beaming to the press and anyone who would listen. The moment came, the unveiling occurred, the gasps were everywhere. The crowd was moved, emotions running the gamut from awe to utter rage.
There’s a hole where the heart should be. It wasn’t always there, appearing sometime during the night. It needed to be filled with something, but what? It didn’t matter what it was, just so the general audience wouldn’t notice the flaw. The artist as well should not be made aware.
Arid Testimony 