Cap't Monkey And Tooele Boy And The Suspicious Sculpture...A Short Story

 

 It's Time To Write! 

 I've found that Sunday nights are good nights to do a little writing and luckily, there's a website that accepts short stories--very short stories.

There are rules, of course. They'll only accept stories if you follow the rules and if you're wondering what those rules are, you're in luck! Because here they are!

1) Use the two photos provided in your story
2) Keep your word count 500 words or less.
3) You have until next Tuesday night to link up your post.
4) Add your story (Blue Link) at Leane's or Tena's sites.

5) Have fun, don’t stress, let those creative juices flow.

And so I accept the challenge for another week! Here's what I came up with!

Cap't Monkey And Tooele Boy And The Suspicious Sculpture

"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Tooele Boy didn't want to interrupt his mentor as the wiser, cultured man practiced a mash up of, As My Guitar Gently Wheeps and Led Zeppelin's classic, Black Dog on his Yamaha FGX730SC Solid Top Acoustic. However, Tooele Boy's tortured mind screamed for answers, answers he knew he alone did not possess.

The cap't lowered the beautiful instrument. "Looks like you just did," he said with a smile. A confused face met the musician, a look the captain had seen many times. After a moment, Tooele Boy responded.

"Well, can I ask you another question?"

"Yes, certainly."

"Cap't Monkey, I just returned from your last errand and I saw something, something large and mysterious--dare I say, suspicious."

"Do tell, my friend."

"As I walked through Millennium Park, reading the owners manual from my new pedometer, as I'm prone to do, a shadow passed over me, a menacing force full of foreboding and general ickiness. As soon as the darkness engulfed me, I stopped."

"Good heavens!" Cap't Monkey said with sincere interest. "Whatever was it?"

"I looked up and saw...well, I saw myself, but not myself. I stared up, or down at a distorted image of me, but not just me. Everyone around me, tourists, musicians, mob bosses, we were all twisted and deformed. Even mothers brought children to this horrid place."

"How terrible!" exclaimed the captain.

"Indeed! I knew not what to do."

"So, what did you do?" asked Cap't Monkey as he picked up his beloved guitar.

"The first thing I did was escape from underneath the hovering dread. Once I distanced myself from this thing, I looked back and noticed it was a sculpture, an incredible silver blob sat right in the middle of the park! Are you aware of this suspicious sculpture?"

"I am," he said as he strummed a perfect D minor, the saddest of all cords. "It's called Cloud Gate, better known as, The Bean."

"The what?"

"Formally dedicated May 15, 2006, Anish Kapoor's much-anticipated artwork showed the world that form can not only dictate the piece, but transcend it. Anyone coming in contact with Cloud Gate comes away with a different experience, a unique feeling that connects the viewer with the object with the artist. It's quite remarkable."

"I had no idea you knew so much about art!" an exasperated Tooele Boy said. "Once again, your intellect truly baffles me."

"It's more of a hobby, really, something that tweaks my interest from time to time. No, I've visted the famous bean several times, each time I see something different not only in the artwork, but in myself."

"If you're seeing something different each time, you must wear different clothes every time you go."

"You couldn't be more right," Cap't Monkey said. "You couldn't be more right."

Word Count: 478