The Golden Woman

I stared mesmerized at the statue of the golden woman. Gold drippings covered her naked body and her hand sat daintily against her chest, eyes closed in thought.

“This is an incredible piece of art work,” said a young woman with long blond hair and blue eyes wearing a skirt a little too short for my taste.

“Yes, indeed it is. I wonder what the artist was thinking when he created this marvel? Why do you suppose he painted her golden and why not leave it at that? Why the drippings all over her body?”

The woman lifted her right eyebrow and tapped her foot. “I suppose he did it for this reason. To make people talk and wonder. What I see is a sad, lonely woman, drowning in sorrow and she’s desperately seeking a golden life.”

“Hmm, that’s a good interpretation.”

“Well, it was nice talking to you. Bye.”

“Mr. Smith, I saw that young woman speaking to you. I assume she liked your statue?”

“It would appear so.”

I took one last look at my work, smiled and left the room to the art enthusiasts to discuss my golden creation.