Life is a Gallery

“How on earth is this considered art?” Andrea tilted her head to the side as she stared at the set up in front of her.

         “It obviously meant something to the artist,” Victor shrugged and continued to study the display. The bedroom looked normal enough. A bed, a mirror above a long dresser, and a nightstand beside the bed. “There is a lot of animal print though, kind of freaky,” he continued. “If you were to do that to our bedroom, I would probably disown you.” Victor’s voice was bubbly and playful.

         “Well, I won’t,” Andrea answered sharply.

         “I like the wall colour though; not as dark as pure black, it’s muted and a bit more on the grey scale.” He pressed on with his rambling, uneasiness sinking into him.

         “It doesn't excite me,” she folded her arms across her chest, her head averted from the bedroom display. “Seriously, what’s the point of having this in an art gallery? It’s pointless and uninteresting,”

         “Geez, are you sure you aren’t talking about our relationship?” Victor meant it as playful banter, but he knew Andrea was growing bored of their three-year relationship.

         “No, because we aren’t supposed to, remember,” she hissed through her teeth. “We are suppose to pretend as if we’re the perfect couple, that things are exciting and wonderful.”

All Victor wanted was a fun date, outside of being at one of their houses. That’s all they did these days, stay indoors and watch movies—Andrea had changed this past year, she wasn’t her usual cheerful, happy-go-lucky self. She often complained about their relationship, how it was boring her. They weren’t going anywhere, there was no foreseeable future together, according to Andrea.

         “Why is this piece of art upsetting you so much, Andrea?” Victor turned to face her and grabbed her shoulders, which forced her to look him in the eyes. Andrea sighed and rolled her large grey eyes.

         “You’re only asking me to move in with you because you think it’ll save this relationship.”

         “What if it does?” Victor heard the disbelief in his own voice. “At least I’m trying!”

Andrea scoffed. “It’s not what I want. I don’t want to share a bedroom with you, or a kitchen, or a living room.” She was aware of the hurt that passed across her boyfriend’s face, but it didn’t affect her. “I don’t want to look at this anymore.” She walked off into another room of the gallery. Victor glanced back at the bedroom set up, and he suddenly wanted to be a part of that display. At least there, things wouldn’t change. The bedroom wasn’t that bad, the animal print was a little overwhelming, and there wasn’t enough lighting; but it didn’t mean it was awful. There were some things off about it, but the room didn’t deserve to be treated as if it wasn’t art or something worthy of being in a museum. Victor liked it, Andrea wasn’t interested. Very typical for both of them.


Katerina Glowienka

I'm a twenty-year-old avid writer, who has recently been diagnosed with a gluten allergy, and newly turned vegan. I'm attempting to help others learn how to cook and eat healthy, while on a college student budget.

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