A very short story.
Sculpture
He pressed his slick hands into the clay and carefully leaned his weight into the mass, causing it to bend at its weakest point approximately two-thirds up from the floor.
“That’s probably far enough.”
The sculptor stood back to appraise the work so far, starting from the top and slowly working towards the base, as he always did.
The top was reminiscent of a hollow tube, about the dimensions of someone’s upper leg, and leaned awkwardly to the side. A crude flange separated this “tube” from the main body, which quickly grew outward into a large pear-esque shape. The surface was uneven and rough. If it were a pear, it was certainly bruised, as if it had been dropped and squashed.
Truthfully, it was ugly. There wasn’t much about it that was aesthetically pleasing, and the parts that were had to be caught at the right angle in the right light.
“It’s perfect. They’ll pay a lot for this one.”