A Gallery of Women in Sculpture

The crowd poured in to see the female exhibit; a sea of men, each head a wave in Noah's flood.

A lady, whose skin was marble, fair of face and drapings sparse, listened, as did all these statues in silent contemplation.

The low baritones sounded a key change, major to minor; words, both muddy and honey-glazed, danced around the room— They pinched her features and slapped at her skin. They twisted her visage from one form to another; all at once, she was a whore and a pig, Aphrodite and Medusa.

Was she being kissed or cut? Were these hands groping or shoving, loving or destroying?

She felt herself rise from her pedestal, but couldn't tell if she was being carried away or toppled to the ground.

by Elizabeth Wolfe