Coastal Horror 

Short story by Claire Pujol 

...the avant-garde artist stood open-mouthed. When he was again able to collect his thoughts, he rushed out of his house, ready to call back the absent minded creatures who had paid to take a blank canvas. But soon he stopped, as he heard them say :

Do you realize how much time it took this artist to produce such a work of art ? Coastal Horror said to its companion.

    This is just unbelievable indeed ! And this is all for ourselves ! How lucky are we ! No one on earth I am sure would have ever been able to create such a jewel. It was a good idea to spend all our money to buy this.

    You don't realize that it is not a question of money ! This is unique, this is perfectly devoid of any point ! Oh I am so amazed by the technique of this painter, there is no word to qualify his genius !

    Yes, surely you are right, as usual. But tell me something : what you think the painter meant through this marvelous painting ?


From where he was, the nice citizen could hear the deadly silence which suddenly invaded the lands. Then, fumes began to emanate from Coastal Horror. Its awful face grew swollen and even more deformed. Its two different faces got redder and redder. Its whole body was shaken by weird spasms, as if it was entering in trance. A voice from beyond the grave uttered the following words :

Thou shall never say these damned words ! Do you hear me ?

    Which words master ? Painting ?

    No ! You know the words ! You will kill me if you say them too often !

    I simply do not see what these words are ? Marvelous, this, through, painter ?

    You are even more stupid than I thought ! These two verbs you have pronounced are not part of my vocabulary, and I cannot stand them. Do never say them again !

    Ahhh ! Do you mean that I should not ever think to pronounce either the verbs think or mean ?


    Oops !


Other works by Claire Pujol 

Essays       drawings          short stories


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