No sculpture


He’d acquired the perfect woman.
Voluptuous, willing, nurturing.
Devoid of personal needs, desires.
He cared naught for the real person.
Just about how she would adorn him.
His status would rise in the eyes of others, with such a woman.

So he courted her. Won her heart.
And promptly forgot it’s existence.
Time passed. He grew comfortable.

Imagine his surprise when he came home to meet
a real full-blooded woman scorned.


Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #144 – Sculpture.

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