Kitsch

I am the first to see his secret chamber – art created, never sold.

“Where does the money come from?” I’m curious.

“I migrated to the city in search of a living, to keep body and soul together.

Anna invited me to see a certain spot in the city. The Queen of Kitsch had just introduced me to her art. She needed help in executing commissioned projects. I’ve never looked back since.”

“You have. This chamber feeds your soul. Have you ever tried selling these works of art?”

“The privilege is all yours…” his smile is infectious, just like old times.

Written for Friday Fictioneers

25 thoughts on “Kitsch

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