A story in 300 words.
What happens when a little-known artist arrives to set up for her gallery exhibition.
The Touring Exhibition
“Most people come here by invitation; we don’t get that many outright hires.” The gallery owner was helping me to carry the paintings in, each one wrapped securely in a sheet.
“Oh yes?” I counted the white rectangles.
Obviously the chatty type. “Did you hear about the equal rights march in Watsham? A record turnout. Even pensioners and working men attending. Imagine so many people dropping everything to go and protest! And there’s supposed to be another one happening in Harport tomorrow.”
Finishing my check, I flashed a polite smile. “Yes, actually. I toured through both of those places just recently.”
“Oh so you’ll know more about it than I do.” He turned to regard the stack of covered canvases. “I can’t wait to see what you’ll be exhibiting. May I?” He reached to lift the sheet on the nearest one.
My “No!” was just an instant too late.
“I’m so sorry,” the secretary was obviously stressed. “I can’t imagine why Mr Garnam decided to drive to Harport. He called me to come in at the last minute. I don’t usually handle exhibitions.”
“It’s quite alright. I’m used to setting up alone.”
“I haven’t any idea how many people we’ll get. If it’s a renowned artist, we can usually give an estimate, but with you being unknown and all.”
This time, my smile was genuine. “They’ll come.”
And so they did. The first evening, and the second. On the third, the equal rights protests had spread as far as this small town and even the secretary was missing. It didn’t matter. I was used to packing up alone. I locked up the gallery and posted her keys through the door.
Ilsley would be my next target. Followed by Greater Tarking, Pensham and then… London.
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Image from Pixabay