EXPLANATION OF AN INSTALLATION
100 words for Friday Fictioneers
Photoprompt © Sandra Crook
When my brother’s not talking in riddles or pulling labels off bean cans, he devises what he calls installations.
Today’s motley is, according to him, Tate Modern with a splash of wry humour.
“But what is it?” I ask.
He minutely adjusts the position of a dirty spiky bone.
“It’s a nature table,” he replies. “Says so on the label. Can’t you read?”
“But it isn’t, is it? I want to know what it really is.”
“I’m telling you. It’s a nature table. Look at it. Rough. Coarse. Spiteful.”
I kick his shin. “So?” I say.
“It’s your nature, bitch.”