Laura was a woman who didn’t think very much of my artistic talents. In fact, she didn’t think much of me at all. Hell, she didn’t think much of anybody!
She was a model… or so she claimed. She was also blonde. That explained a lot, at least as far as I was concerned.
She treated me like dirt. I suppose she treated most everybody that way. But she was still quite popular.
I told her she could pose for me if she wanted. She laughed at the idea. The more she resisted my attempts, the more I wanted her to pose for me.
I followed her home one night. When I caught up to her, she eyed me suspiciously. “What do YOU want??” she blurted out in disgust.
“I want you to pose for me,” I replied. “I think you’d make a good statue. I’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you’ll pose for me.”
Her eyes lit up as she gasped incredulously. “Five hundred dollars?? You really MEAN IT?? I thought you were joking about being a sculptor!”
I strongly suspected money would get her to change her tune. After all, that was a lot of dough. I told her I was serious and that I thought she’d make a great sculpture.
“When do you want me to pose?” she asked, sounding all excited now.
“How about tonight? My studio is not far. We can get started right away if you like.”
She let out a delighted squeal. Then she ran her arm through mine, telling me to lead the way.
I escorted her over to my studio and let her inside. The place was a mess, of course. I don’t keep things very organized.
She saw the tub of clay on the table. So she must have surmised how serious I was. “How do you want me?” she asked, sounding excited to be immortalized in a sculpture.
I went over, picked up a wooden chair and placed it next to the table. “Right here will do fine,” I told her. Then I looked her up and down before adding, “Take off your clothes.”
She looked at me rather dubiously. Then she began to undress. She must have figured I was harmless enough.
She carefully sat down in the chair. I stuck my hands into the pot. Then I began molding some clay.
She watched me quietly as a look of anticipation filled her features. I was happy she was modeling for me. But I was under no illusions. Despite her enthusiasm, I was sure she was only there because she was getting five hundred dollars out of the deal.
I looked at her for a long moment. Something was missing. So I walked over and gathered up her scarf.
I brought it over to her and held it out to her. “I think this would look good around your neck. Don’t you?”
She smiled and nodded as she took it from me. She carefully secured it around her neck. Then she asked, “How about like this?
It was a very nice scarf. Hell, it was a very nice neck. So I stepped behind her to admire it, making sure she had it on the way I wanted it to look.
I took the ends of her scarf and shifted it around into just the way I wanted it. Then I pulled hard on the ends. She wasn’t expecting a thing.
Her head tipped back as she clawed at the tightening scarf around her neck. She made rasping, choking sounds… delicious sounds. They were music to my ears. She was going to make a great sculpture.
I invited my friends over to see the great unveiling. I also invited Maxwell, a man who had an art studio who had been impressed with one of my previous sculptures. My creation awaited under a sheet.
I pulled it off for the great unveiling. “I call it ‘Strangled Girl’,” I told them. Everyone gasped in awe.
“Incredible!” my friend Carla blurted out.
“So realistic!” Leonard remarked in admiration. “Her expression is so lifelike… so vivid!”
“I want to display her in my studio!” Maxwell declared.
Maxwell wants another one. As it turns out, Carla recently turned down my proposal of marriage. I wonder how she’d feel becoming immortalized for the ages for all to see…
2014; 2021 (written for “Laura” May 4 ’14; ed. May 23 ‘21 by riwa)
(Inspired by a scene in the B&W movie A Bucket of Blood (1959). Vidcaps used for illustration purposes.)