Short story - Ruby
Ruby By: Aleta Gay Grimball O ’Brien The first time the painting spoke, I was holding a brush loaded with light pink paint. “You never painted my left shoulder.” The voice was calm, slightly annoyed, and came from somewhere near me. The brush dropped to the floor, splattering pink in streaks. I picked up the brush slowly and shook my head, I turned toward the easel. Lady Justice , or Ruby, as I ’ve come to think of her, stared back at me from the canvas. Blindfolded and motionless, as it should be. She was a work in progress painting . I had only completed the extreme colors, pale pinks and dark burgundies. My eyes kept bouncing around the painting, trying to reconcile the drastic shades. Half finished, including the shoulder. “Hello?” I whispered , half laughing, “I’m being silly.” “Honestly,” she said, “you’ve been standing there discussing mediu...