Ask Me

‘Ask me,’ she beckoned from beyond the cave.  Her entire visage seemed designed to draw questions from my mouth.  Deeper – into the cave; out of my self – the question longed to press, to probe, to pry.  This oracle, this Venus, this whore.

My question on her lips.

(Five-sentence story based on an image.  I can’t share the image as I don’t want to offend anyone – sorry!)

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