Lost Paintings

Mona Lisa and The Thinker ran out of the painting so fast that they knocked over chairs and ran right into a table. The Thinker had not quite gotten his balance, and knocked over a few more chairs.

Mona Lisa rubbed her hip. Being real was painful.

"Where are we," asked The Thinker.

"I do not know. It appears that we came through another painting and ended up in another building," Mona Lisa said. This was all very strange to her.

She was trying not to look at The Thinker. She looked around the room and saw a long white apron hanging. It was splattered with paint but would work for what she needed. "I was thinking, now that we are human - you might want to wear something. We can start with this." She handed it over, trying to avoid looking directly at The Thinker.

"Thank you," said The Thinker. He tied the apron around his waist. "I was sculpted without garments. If I was human before, I would have dressed more like a gentleman, especially when ladies were present."

Mona Lisa smiled. "Well, that is better," she said as she looked approvingly at the Thinker.

She took a look at the painting that was ripped. "It looks like someone tried to paint me again," she said, fingering the ripped canvas. "And somehow, we came through this new painting into this building."

"It is almost like we came through a hallway in time or space, and this painting was a door," she said softly, then shook her head. None of this made sense to her.