Thistextisreproducedwiththepermissionoftheauthorforuseinthe2020MicroflixAwards.Notfordistribution.Copyrighttheauthor.

Thistextisreproducedwiththepermissionoftheauthorforuseinthe2020MicroflixAwards.Notfordistribution.Copyrighttheauthor.

Mona Lisa by Susan McCreery

Where are her eyebrows?

What? said Graham.

Her eyebrows. She’s hairless.

I’ve never noticed.

I stood on tiptoes for another glimpse. And it’s tiny.

But what do you think of her?

I shrugged. What’s all the fuss about?

Graham frowned.

No eyelashes either.

Graham said, You’re missing le point.

Oh? What is le point?

The mystery. The quiet. The smile that isn’t always a smile.

Well. Give me Liberty with her hairy pits leading the people any day.

Graham’s frown deepened. I can’t believe your reaction. This is da Vinci, and

one of the most exquisite—

Is this how you think I should be? Because I’m not. I’m not this.

Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a 500-year-old painting! Take a look at the crowds.

I know! I twirled my arms around. It’s crazy if you ask me.

Sh. Keep your voice down.

Ooh. Am I being too loud? Too emotional? Are my eyebrows all ugly and

screwed up?

Graham raised his eyes to the ornate ceiling.

Aux armes! I cried, fist aloft. If you want me I’ll be at Liberty in Room 77.