The Imperfect Masterpiece

Chapter 8: "...Dinosaurs by the Sea..."

Well, that was both vague and insightful.

If he can relate to an artwork that I made when my mum died, I can only imagine what he could be relating this to. What could he possibly have felt that would make him feel that connected to me, especially when I was at my lowest?!

My most vulnerable.

When all my emotions were no longer held in, and it was just the raw and unfiltered me, in the most damned time in my life.

This got me worried...

"Hey, you've been quiet for a while now, you ok?..." he asked, nervously worried.

Blinking rapidly, I remember that I was walking among a plethora of dinosaur artworks with Prospèro. I smiled realising the reality of the situation.

"Yea, I was just in deep thought from what you said. I think that will help clear up the artists' mental blank... so yea, thanks." I said awkwardly.

"Oh ok, no problem then." He replied, as we continued to walk towards an 8 foot tall pink Tyrannosaurus Rex statue.

Snatching the camera from Prospèro, I tell him to go to the dinosaur statue and strike a pose.

What I got as a result, was not what I expected...

Rather than posing like a normal person, he decided to re-do the whole 'George dinosaur' pose. Sound effect and all.

Damn... I shouldn't be falling for him this quickly, should I?

"Alright, your turn!" He yelled, grabbing his polaroid and pushing me towards the T. Rex.

I guess, now he'll know I was never meant to be a model. And what I mean by that is... I 'pose' like I need to take a shit in chilly weather and put my hands in a praying position, doing the '#blessed' pose. The look he had on his face, was a mixture of laughter and confusion.

"Why?!..." He said as he looked at me.

"It's a meme, I guess... don't worry about it." I said, not wanting to explain how weird my mind works.

"No, I get that, but... just why?... out of all poses." He asked again.

"Why the fuck not?! So shut up and take the photo, I can't keep this pose up for much longer." I exclaimed, now trying my hardest not to laugh.

Shaking his head and chuckling, Prospèro finally takes the photo and I stand up again, relieved, because my poor legs weren't ready for a squat like that.

As we continue to walk through the exhibition, we take photos with a bedazzled stegosaurus, a neon green triceratops and a blue brontosaurus sculpture at the beach, that had bunny ears placed on its head. The brontosaurus was by far the best.

As we walked barefooted through the crowd of pterodactyls on the beach with claws painted bright colours, at some point I stopped looking at the sculptures and just started strolling across the beach admiring the sunset and waves. Not realising that Prospèro had stopped walking and was now just looking at me and taking photos, I continued on at my own leisured pace.

At some point, I stopped and just stood before the waves; cuddling myself in Prospèro's jacket, as the cool wind brushed through my hair, and just admired the sunset completely entranced.

"Beautiful, isn't it?..." Prospèro said, snapping me out of my hypnosis by the sound of the waves violently and sporadically clashing with the shore.

I turn to look at him and freeze with pure shock and almost tear-jerking awe. The light of the sunset managed to hit him in all the right places, somehow making him even more beautiful than he already was.