Monday, May 02, 2005

Girl on Sidewalk Holding Bars

Mushroom's Story
It had finally happened: the crazy people outnumbered the sane, and Modesta was one of the few people left who had her head on straight. The outside world was her prison, and while she at first thought this was great because she could go anywhere and do anything without having to encounter the insane, in time she became lonely. She no longer had human company, save the passersby in her life who were nice people but not... interesting. She missed her family and how they'd leave the phone off the hook when they were home, explaining that if someone had an emergency they'd be able to get through somehow. She missed her friends and the way their individual idiosyncrasies would mesh to create unbelievable and memorable adventures. Despite the consequences that she was very much aware of and how she always swore she was longing for the day she was now living in, she'd do anything to be back in the senseless world.

Jamie Dawn's Story
She'd had psychic powers ever since she could remember but had never told a single soul. Her powers had a strange contingent: she must touch something that had been made by the person in order to get a reading. Until now, she'd only used her powers in fun ways to find out things about boys she liked or to have information with which to bribe her siblings. But, when her favorite uncle, the local ironsmith, went missing and was feared to have been murdered, she knew she had to find out the truth for the sake of her poor, distraught aunt and her bewildered cousins who'd been left nearly penniless. She grabbed hold of the bars, made by her dear uncle's own hands, and held on for nearly 4 hours. Finally, she saw him...fuzzy at first, then more clearly. He was on a beach, wearing a speedo and laughing with two scantilly clad women who were slathering him with suntan oil.

Tom's & Icy's Story
The bank teller is running late on Friday to close up her station and her friends are like Hurry up! It's the weekend! We want to get out of here! So her hands became a blur and Finally! They all spew out the front door as beverage from a well shaken can. She pauses by her car door staring at the handle which drums up an image of her keys on the counter. An Olympic recorder breaking sprint back to the bank but all's gone and door's locked. Nose pugged against the cold glass, she sees the custodian way back by a window. Like a race car, she skids around the corner to the window and grabs the bars, shaking them in hopes to get the attention of the man inside the bank. Alarm. Police. FBI. Questioning. Check records. Check work. She has been embezzling and has outstanding warrants. So it's off to jail where she again stands holding bars, shaking the bars, but this time not to get in, but to get out!

Elveshat's Story
The university builing seemed to have been evacuated and been closed up as if by magic, and the little chinese stundent was desperately trying to get inside. "Where has everybody gone? Why are the doors sealed up? How is this possible?", Chan Li kept wondering. But she was restless, she new she had to get inside today somehow in order to acquire some important information for the essay she had to handle over the next day. "I got to go inside no matter how." She thought. So she took a hairpin and tryed to unlock the door with it. But it wouldnt work because the lock of the main entrance of the university building was not exactly as easy to open as her diary lock. She soon gave the door idea up and kept walking in cirles around the building when she saw the library window. But the window had bars which seemed impossible to move. However, when Chan Li placed her hands on them to see how strong they were, the bars immediately gave in and freed the window. Amazed at this discovery, Chan Li quickly climbed up the window, entered the building and spend a couple of hours alone in the library. When her work was done, she left in the same way as she got in and placed the bars back into their place. Satisfied and happy for having collected the information she needed, she kept wondering why the university was closed on that nice day. But as she glanced at her mobile phone, she understood why and blamed herself for being silly. Of course it was the first of May. "Great" She thought. "Only I have got to work on such a day, only I...".

Cori's Story
"Is this cardboard?" She said out loud on the street as she grasped and pulled at what moments before seemed to be beautiful Florentine ironwork.

"Whaa thha...?" slipping as she brushed the tips of her fingers across the old chiseled stone, realizing that it was merely painted butcher paper, stapled onto stretcher bars.

She backed up slowly from the wall and paused for a moment letting a pack of smoking college students pass. Hmmm.

"Fuck Florence," she yelled as she threw a swift boot kick, which rose up and cut through, leaving a visible opening that exposed the bare papier mache ass of Michelangelo's David.

She stepped inside the Galleria dell'Academia, eyeing all of its recreations and reproductions. She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out an adjustable flame Bic lighter.

Doug's Story
She looked like other girls, dressed conservatively and carrying her books as she we wandered the city. In her heart, she knew she was different. She alone had dreams of perfect freedom, spending a long life doing what no-one else could imagine. Breaking into jail seemed a good start.

My Story
Elaine visited the museum one day while touring a city of culture. The works of art spoke to her secretly and imparted upon her their plan, inviting her to return after closing hour to be with them. The Renoir nude would hypnotize the guard, so he would not be a problem. The mobiles would spin on their own, attracting the motion-sensing cameras. The statue by the window would see that the bars were unlocked. Once she was inside, there would be no disruptions the entire night long. Her clothes discarded in the corner, she would stand before the paintings, arms outstretched, and they would cast their colors upon her. She would sense fine nuances that even the artists themselves had overlooked. The sculptures would allow her to glide her fingers over their perfect forms, to marvel at the mystery of skin the impossible texture of warm ice. Ancient objects would whisper their secrets into her ear. She would understand them and appreciate them. And in return she would be understood and appreciated. As Elaine self-assuredly reached to open the bars, she looked forward to a new world of intimacy open only to one girl alone with art.


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