(Micro)Flash Fiction Friday – The Gallery

Hello! It’s Friday and time for another short snippet of fiction. Things have happened, but most are good things, so I was able to get back to my flash pieces. I have two manuscripts off to beta readers and am plotting the next books in both those series. With a couple of days to completely chill, play video games, and just be, I was able to hop back into things.

The Gallery is based on the featured image below with the prompt “What business is tucked away here, just waiting to be discovered?” It may not be the expected shop, but I enjoyed it!

If anyone else wants to play along, feel free to paste yours in the comments below, link to your own site, or on my Facebook page.

The Gallery

The Gallery

Maddie tapped one perfectly manicured nail against her lip and studied her inventory. After a spotlight piece in the local tourist magazine distributed to local hotels, she’d had one of her best nights. Three busts and two avant garde pieces were already packed and awaiting shipping. One potential client for a full-sized piece was scheduled to call back on Saturday. A stellar night by all measures. Except for one thing.


The gorgeous male reclined against vibrantly painted granite cushions. He was beautifully built, gloriously naked, and sinfully aroused. She’d held onto the piece for years, jealously guarding its beauty for herself. It demanded to be seen by more eyes than just her own, so she’d taken the risk and placed it on display. It’d been too soon. There’d been questions. Now, it needed time out of the spotlight.

But what to put in its place? “Rasheed”, perhaps? Maybe “Hyun-Wu”? No, and no. Both had spent time on the showroom floor recently, and Rasheed had garnered more attention than she’d liked. The bad kind. The kind that forced her to pack up and move under the cover of night. She really didn’t want to move again.

Sighing, she walked to the back of the storeroom. She kept her oldest works here, those cracked with age or worn smooth from years of shipping from one gallery to the next. The oldest, a crumbling bust, rested on a velvet pillow. Its mouth screamed in silent, perpetual terror. Its eyes round and dilated. Time had chipped away the point of its beard, smoothed the wrinkles from its creased brow, but it’d do nicely.

She smiled and moved the ancient piece into the center of the gallery. Placing the head on its velvet cushion, she covered it with sturdy plexiglass and affixed the placard. “Polydectes, A King of Seriphos.”

There’d been a nymph among the humans last night. It was time to remind everyone why they left her in peace.