Adventures in Literary Esoterica

Opus

Claude slowly did the rounds at the gallery. Some pieces he paused and studied intently, while others received approving nods as he passed by at a casual saunter. He spent more time than most in galleries all over the world, and yet he still never tired of seeing the endless beauty of human ingenuity.

He stopped to admire a particularly large installation; a scale replica of a wall of shipping containers set against a mural of the Port of Los Angeles. The work was impressive in scope; each container was about half the size of a standard 8x8x20 container and they were stacked up nearly to the ceiling. He admired the attention to detail, right down to the industrial markings on the hinged doors.

“What is this supposed to be?” another patron asked his date as they passed by.

Claude rolled his eyes. Philistines.

But then his eyes narrowed and focused on one container in particular.

No. No, no, no... NO!

The container. The only container that mattered. The one with all of his tools. And the crawlspace to hide in. That container had its hinged door on the front too, rather than reversed and accessible from the back of the installation as he had explicitly instructed.

He gritted his teeth and looked around at all the art on the walls.

This was supposed to be his masterpiece.

His opus.

The one big score that would allow him to finally retire.

But none of that was going to happen with a hiding space he couldn’t get into.

Claude stood there staring at his own creation. All the money, all that planning. He was surrounded by other people’s masterpieces, and his own was so tantalizingly close and yet now completely unattainable.

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Word Count: 290

Prompt: Write a story that includes the line: "What is this supposed to be?"

Written for: "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"