Heaven

There was once a woman who lived in the south of France, and in those days there were no office jobs so she sculpted for a living. The woman became famous for this and all over the world all kinds of people asked her to make something for them. She was famous for the realism of her sculpting as though she was the creator of nature herself, and for this reason she was especially loved by lovers who wanted their love’s face or body sculpted so they could immortalize each other’s beauty.

The woman watched as the years passed and millions of lovers came to her doorstep and she was surrounded by love constantly. Kisses and hands together forever, smiles on their faces, arguments too as love triumphs but does not exist in a vacuum. She became increasingly aware of her pervasive loneliness, it engulfed every corner of her house like a fog from her soul’s evaporated tears, it was almost impossible to see through it. It seemed everyone felt she was too preoccupied with her sculpting to stay, and her loneliness had made her a rather odd person who preferred to shut herself off instead of allowing people to stay and then declining.

One day in the cold winter days when she had run out of her regular material, she decided to use wax for her own project. She envisioned a lover for herself, she drew his body first and her hands started molding him into a much more defined shape. Her hands made him a tall slender shape, she took out some different colored wax and there came his eyes. Last she left the hands, and with the precision of an archer carefully shaped every one, even made the palm of his hand have the unique shapes that adorn a live human’s hand. When she was done, she felt it then the fog moving around her as always, it was thicker than usual and if it weren’t for the fact that she still had his hand on hers she may have lost sight of him, she stepped away and said 

“ It seems no flesh and blood being shall be mine, I have become my work and my work alone shall be my lover” she then took a step and kissed the lips she had crafted for him and that night laid at his feet while asleep. 

The fog that had been engulfing the entire house coiled around the sculpting of the man and entered him. The fog had been made from the sculptor’s soul tears and as such contained the codes of its essence, and it began to produce all the materials that flesh and blooded humans possess. A heart formed from the inside of the man and blood rushed to his cheeks, that had now been made flesh. The last to form was the brain, and with it the man gasped his eyes open for suddenly he knew he was alive. 

The man took hold of the blue sheets draped over to the side of the working table and fashioned himself a tunic. Then he saw the sculptor at his feet, and while he felt his hands move for the first time and knees too, kneeled at her side cupping her face with his hand 

“ What strange creature lies here, are you a friend or a foe? she looks like me” 

The sound of his voice was strange and deep and with a start the sculptor awoke and let out a scream 

“ Oh I must be dreaming, or finally gone mad, a creature of mine has come alive, what sort of spirit seeks to play out a sick joke like this, does it not know I already suffer from loneliness” said the girl.

“ Creature of yours? I am no creature of yours, I am my own being, I do not know where I come from tho, do you perhaps know? And I can assure you I am very much real” said the man who tentatively touched her arm. The woman began to realize he was real flesh and blood and began to cry 

“ Oh thank the heavens, my curse has been lifted, I have crafted my own lover, a soul meant for me, I may finally know love” said the woman who cupped his face. The man gazed down at her, suddenly realizing who she was. 

You see we are all born with a profound loneliness, a kind that pervades everything, the kind you spent your entire time searching for a way out. You know you’re missing a part of you and you seek to find it. The man had not waited long though for his lover had crafted him from her own soul and suddenly one became two. Then as their lips touched did they become one again, like water molecules bind to each other. The hand of the man perfectly crafted to fit his lover was intertwined with hers on the ground of the room. Outside the window, it had begun to rain and the sounds of the rain and thunder masked the sounds of lovers coming together to feel eternity for a night.

However, when the daytime rose and the sculpted lover tried to go outside, not a step he had taken when he began to melt for the sun turned him back into wax. Scared, he ran inside again to find the woman who crafted his melted hand back into flesh and warned him to not go outside for it was too dangerous. The woman then shut her practice off, and closed off all the windows of her windows so no sunlight could ever enter. The house became cold and full of dust but there she was with her lover, who despite knowing this was keeping him alive became reckless and bored. He began to think that the woman had done this to him, that she had put the curse of not being able to feel the sunshine so that he would never leave her. The woman’s magic tended to be weaker when she slept so one day when she was, the man ventured into the sunlight, and he thought

“ I bet I won’t burn this time, for in her sleep this type of curse won’t uphold” but when he took his first step outside the house, he burst into flames until all that was left was a puddle of melted wax. His lover came running to him, hearing his screams from where she slept, but it was too late by the time she arrived. The fog that had encompassed his soul went back into hers and she collapsed and screamed, she went back into her studio and tired and tried to bring him back but the melted wax was too damaged for it too work. Her seclusion for him had also cost her business to shut down, so she no longer had the supplies to build him a new body. The woman became ill, and the world outside her passed through time but there she was inside her house sleeping at the foot of the melted wax. 

One day, a knock came to the door and in a rare moment, the woman awoke and slowly made her weak soul and body to the door and when she opened the door she gasped, for in the foyer bathed in sunlight was her lover made of true flesh and blood, not from her but from nature. He was carrying in his hand a notebook and in his hair was a golden pen much like her golden chisel strung to her belt. 

“May I come in” said her lover