From Trash to Cash

Image by Francoise Gisbert for Pixabay

Sunday Photo Fiction

Summer’s over, the chairs are wrecked, I’ll pile ‘em up, see if I can balance them and maybe make a bridge for the cats to walk over before I trash them (the chairs, not the cats).  Hmm.  Looks quite good against the sky.  O-M-G, I’ve created an art installation!  Look at that.  Could I sell it?  Could I invite people to my garden to look at it?  Could I call myself an artist?  Pity the Council has no spare money due to the cuts, otherwise, I could ask them to buy it as a piece of civic furniture. Would be perfect in the current zeitgeist.

Comments

9 responses to “From Trash to Cash”

  1. maristravels Avatar
    maristravels

    My first published pieces were short stories but the fiction world changed and I couldn’t adapt! I find these little photo prompts very stimulating and it’s re-engaging the creative part of my brain.

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  2. restlessjo Avatar

    Nice to find you writing outside the ‘travel box’, Mari. Now let me see… where would I put it? 🙂 🙂

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  3. maristravels Avatar
    maristravels

    Comments all appreciated, many thanks. It encourages me to keep on trying this short form of fiction.

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  4. Keith's Ramblings Avatar

    An artful take on the prompt! Well done.

    Here’s my story!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. DB McNicol Avatar

    Art was my first thought, too. Great little tale!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. SilverTiger Avatar

    We live in an age when the word “art” has been so manipulated – and, I am tempted to say, debased – that it no longer has a clear meaning.

    When we are out and about, we often come upon a heap or jumble of some sort. We look at one another and say “Art? Or junk?”

    Even when visiting an art gallery, I am often unconvinced that the exhibits really deserve the prestigious label of “art”.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. maristravels Avatar
    maristravels

    Why am I not surprised?!

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  8. travelrat Avatar
    travelrat

    My cousin walked the Sculpture Trail in the Grizedale Forest. . He recognised one of the ‘sculptures’; 25 years earlier, when he was working there, he cut some pine poles, and leaned them against a surviving section of a long-gone dry stone wall. Then’ he got sent on another job, and forgot all about them. Then, a quarter of a century later, there they were, hailed as a ‘sculpture’!!

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