Being chucked out was not a pleasant feeling. But music is live streaming energy, and does not belong in a museum. They tried their best to infuse life into relics of the past. The lilting music in the background made the viewers hope, that the objects would come alive, to tell their own stories, and history would no longer be relegated to text books and stone tablets.
But they failed. John would have been happy to infuse life into the Curator, who had forgotten, that he was alive. He was happy being in conversation with the relics that he cared for, and created relational identities for himself. The doctors call it Schizophrenia, but it was a way of existence for him. And the objects in the museum did not mind.
John made one last effort before leaving – to infuse spirit into the mausoleum for the living. His friends silently cried.
Inspired by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Challenge