Maggie stopped in the middle of the high street and stared at the new sculpture.
‘What’s it suppose to be?’
Bright red, blue and yellow cables with plugs reached to the sky as if a giant had just dropped it.
‘They call this art?’ Maggie scoffed, ‘what’s wrong with a nice naked man?’
She tugged her wheeled bag and shuffled off, still muttering to herself, ‘it’s all this technology rotting the brain. Makes you unable think for yourself. Well, not me! They’ll never get me…..’
(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/07/10/12-july-2019/ with thanks).