Ah, Unchangeable
A Rose for Emily
She remembered Faulkner’s story about the necrophiliac old woman. The out-of-order narrative comforted her, made her think she could fashion a love that strong and remain unchanged in its blush.
But she lived alone.
Her apartment took the brunt of her amorous spirit. She scrubbed the walls each week. Zapped dust bunnies with xenophobic zeal. Fixated on closet colors. And never was there a dish out of place, not even a dirty spoon.
At the museum, she stood before the hyper-real painting, desiring nothing more than to flip the fork onto its back and into its rightful place.
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Thank you for reading! This is part of a micro fiction series where I take a photo and write a story inspired by it. Each story is 100 words.
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About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
Popping in for a brief season. A small bubble has surfaced and will burst again soon, no doubt. New stories expected at unexpected times. Vocal is for challenges.
Boycott ALL A.I. \ © All Rights Reserved
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