Writing Prompt

All of the art is fake. Everyone is clueless. It doesn’t take much to realise, they are painted with barely any effort and don’t match the originals. The people of the museum all have empty stares. To anyone who isn’t brainwashed this is horrifying.

Only me and Raya are unaffected. This place is so big it’s overwhelming. My gown is stained a blood red as it shifts across the floor of the museum.

...

I don’t know how they couldn’t see it. All the subtle details that are off, one stroke going the wrong way, paint one shade too light. It seems so obvious but everyone else touring walks by like nothing is wrong. The guides talk about these works like their the authentic piece. I know the authentics used to be here, I’ve seen them before. But then what happened to them, were they stolen, did someo...

I was walking through the white walled, bland, boring art gallery that had some fancy pillars and some nice paintings. I was a local , off duty policeman on a school tour with my wife’s class. She had wanted help with looking after her class of 35 Primary school students.

After walking around with them , I noticed something peculiar about the paintings. Every single painting was signed MJ. Howev...

Today was a beautiful day and just the day to go to the local art gallery. There were two things that I loved most about the art gallery: seeing the beautiful paintings and watching the other people. My favorite people are the ones that try to flaunt their status by how much they know. They think they are better than everyone else because they find some deluded feeling towards a painting they know...

Something is weird about these paintings in this museum. I have a pretty good eye for art and I’ve studied it for years. Frankly, I’m disappointed and offended that the docent is pretending nothing is amiss.

I can’t believe I had to pay admissions to this farce. Every painting is hopelessly fake. The crook that copied them didn’t even try. I think I will give a bad review once I can find an anonym...

The phone rang in her ear five times before he finally picked it up.

"Hello?" His voice was cautious, concerned.

Hers was mixed with laughter. "You really got them good, didn't you, Vanny?"

"What? Who is this? How did you get this number?"

"Oh, you know me." She patted the top of the payphone, as if it were a loyal pet. "I just pick a few numbers that seem like they'll give me the person I wan...

Wait a minute, are these paintings really fake? How come no one else notices this? Whoever does the buying of images around here is going to be in a whole lot of trouble once their boss finds out about those paintings. I just don't understand how you can get into this type of business and not understand the value of your merchandise or can't even tell if it's real or fake. Hopefully, they will hav...

“Good morning, Miss Dalrymple. I’m sorry to have to bring you in today,” Vice Principal Greenleaf said in his most solemn voice.

“Morning, sir. Don’t be sorry. My old auntie Daisy always said any day you wake up is a good day.”

The young teacher’s cheerful disposition radiated in the shaded administrative office. Greenleaf adjusted his tie with nervous fingers.

“So would you like to explain your s...

Peyton was a very curious young lady. She always loved art, and she was so excited to go to this art gallery. The gallery featured brand new, one of a kind pieces. The kind that collectors absolutely adored. When Peyton got to the gallery, she was toured by a man wearing a navy tux. He held a pointer stick in one hand, ready to point to all the paintings. Peyton’s white blonde hair was pulled back...

I didn't notice anything odd at first. I'd joined the tour late and was paying more attention to the guide's lecture than the actual paintings. I'd seen them all before many times. I was a frequent visiter to this gallery. It was my Saturday tradition of sorts--morning in the park and afternoon at the gallery.

This Saturday it was pouring and I'd forgone the park and headed across the street to ...