Speaking Art

Eleanor Fallaway knew very little about art. What she did know was how to lie to a very convincing level.
“Well,” said her boss, making his way around the empty podiums stationed throughout his museum. “It’s certainly interesting.”
“It’s exactly what’s needed to launch ourselves into this previously untapped market,” Eleanor grinned, “A real head-turner. Did you know that ninety percent of teenagers don’t even know that art museums still exist!”
“Really?” Her boss’s eyes widened. “You don’t say?”
“Oh I do!” Eleanor nodded enthusiastically.
“And this will bring them in will it?” he asked, gazing at the podium critically.
“When the models are installed they will come flocking,” she assured him.
“Good,” he said, turning to walk back to his office. “Oh, by the way,” he paused and glanced back. “What was it called again?”
“The extraordinary within the ordinary,” Eleanor replied.
“Hum,” nodded her boss. “Original.”



When they had finished the left side of the sitting room was painted green and the right was a shade of red that Jonathon could not quite place.

“It looks like Christmas gone oh so very wrong.” said his girlfriend; her hand still wrapped around the roller of mint-green julep.

“It’s not that bad.” he said, waving the paintbrush in a dramatic arch that splattered the dust sheets further. “We can make it work.”

“They don’t even meet in a straight line!” she said. “Your mother is never going to let me live this down!”

“Well you wanted green!” he pointed out.

“I didn’t know you were going for that colour now did I!” she snapped. “What idiot would pick rosewood for a room this size?”

Jonathon shook his head.

“Then what shall we do? Sand down and start again?”

“Well we have to don’t we. Your mother can’t see it like this!”

(Prompt: VisDare 32 – Undecided)