Until love strikes

A stone block sits in the middle of a sculptor’s studio, without form or feeling, waiting coldly for the artisan’s hands. As the weeks pass by, slowly, a rough shape is revealed by the sculptor’s persistent vision, resembling the silhouette of a person seen through a darkened window. Through his labours, the head of a woman is revealed – her features as hard and unforgiving as the marble from which she is made. As the woman’s eyes are opened, she watches the sculptor without interest, unblinking and staring into the void. After completing the head, the sculptor rests while he admires her cold beauty, the perfectly formed features chiseled with his hands. If the woman has a thought, it is to think the sculptor a fool for wasting his time on her soulless body. But the sculptor is persistent and soon the rough square block is smoothed to reveal a naked body; the soft curve of a hip, seductive swell of a breast, an elegant neck. Finally, the sculptor lays down his tools and stands back to admire his masterpiece, only to find her cold presence lacking something. Moving closer, he places his lips on her stony cheek, slowly feeling warmth rising from her breasts. He holds her at arms length and looks into eyes that are watching him now with quickening interest, an image smouldering in her mind. With gentle fingertips the sculptor brings his precious statue to life, shaping her heart with his passion until love strikes.


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