You complete me
Two souls entwined forever
Ah, so you finally join me after all these years…
Yes, indeed, it took some time but I am glad to be here.
Such a delight for me to see the gap filled. I had been grasping for a resolution toward the end of my career and now you have brought it to me. Thus may I rest.
Likewise, my own career came to an abrupt end. I had hoped all of the works I left would find a home here. No matter, one is enough to show the completion of our stories.
Rest in peace, Mark.
You too, William.
O ~ o ~
This Drabble (a story in exactly 100 words) imagines a meeting between Mark Rothko and J.M.W. Turner.
The story is open to your interpretation. These links may help provide context:
I would be delighted to know what you think may be happening.
Thanks for reading
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author living in Kent, England. Writer of short stories and poems in a wide range of genres, forms and styles. A non-fiction writer for 40+ years. Subjects include art, history, science, business, law, and the human condition.
Keep reading
More stories from Raymond G. Taylor and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Playing a long way from home
It was a fantastic gig. Their first tour of Ireland: Monroe's Live in Galway. The Irish press were there, the group all in the special stage costumes and best makeup. The audience was amazing, demanding two encores before the house hit the power.
By Raymond G. Taylor12 months ago in Fiction
For Real--The Interview
Resume’ in hand, I walked into the building fifteen minutes ahead of my interview time. I noticed the foyer is empty. It is a grand space with a coffee stand located on the left and a reception counter on the right. An enormous fireplace from the ground floor to the top of the second floor towered over me. A railing above revealed a lounge on the second floor. No one is around. No one is behind the counter either. I see a sign in book. It has large shaky signatures. I look to the top to see this is for “The Residents”. To think, I had almost signed in the wrong book. Glad no one was looking. I gazed around and found a closed book to the far right lying flat on top of the gleaming black marble. I almost missed it because the book was also black. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was labeled “Visitors”. I opened the book, and with pen in hand, found the last page so that I could sign in. There were no available slots left to sign in. I felt the odd presence of eyes. I felt as though someone was watching me. I looked around, still no sign of a human in sight. I couldn’t shake that feeling. Perplexed, I decided to add a line to the bottom of the page and neatly followed the pattern of the line above to sign in. I closed the book and placed the pen down. I saw a chair by a fireplace in the center of the grand foyer. That seemed like a good place to sit while I waited the next 12 minutes. It would certainly be within earshot. So, I sat down. I placed the resume’ in my lap and neatly folded my hands together. I felt a little conspicuous. I shifted in my seat to make sure I had good posture and crossed my ankles, slightly adjusting both knees to the left and ankles to the right. I could hear and see no one. Yet, I had the unmistakable sense of someone nearby. I looked around. I sniffed the air. I listened so that I could hear a pin drop. Nothing. I gazed at my arms extending beyond the suit sleeves. The hairs stood up. It wasn’t particularly cold in the room, but it was clear that my senses were on overdrive. Time ticked on, slowly, ever so slowly. Agonizing—time ticked on.
By Mary Catherine Watson3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (7)
You certainly have a unique way of seeing "what could have been!" 💜
I love how the dialogue carries such a quiet sense of closure and respect between the two voices.
I had never made a connection between Rothko and Turner but now I’ve found out that one was inspired by the other, I can see it. Great piece.
Without taking time to go into the links (I'm way behind after getting 8 stitches in my scalp), I imagine a ghostly surrender to satisfaction that at least one of each of their paintings has made it--& those two at last together.
I have no idea who those people are so I truly appreciate you for including those links. I thought their ghosts are talking to each other
Excellent drabble At first, I thought it was about 2 paintings talking to each other lol ;) Then, when I got to the ending, I thought maybe the painters' ghosts were tied to the paintings, and they maybe talking to each other.
Two artistic men looking over each other's work, but they are in the midst making some changes/decisions in their lives, and art seems not to be in the cards it seems. Great drabble.