(miniflash story)

When the moon peeked through the museum’s skylight, something magical stirred in Gallery Room 7. First, it was just a gentle ripple across Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ — the stars actually began to twinkle. Then, a ballerina pirouetted right out of Degas’s frame, her tutu catching the moonlight as she danced across the polished floor.

The old sailor from the maritime portrait stretched lazily and lit his painted pipe, nodding to the Renaissance lady who stepped gracefully from her golden frame, her silk dress rustling. Even the flowers from Monet’s garden swayed in a breeze that wasn’t there, petals occasionally drifting to the floor before dissolving like morning mist.

Just before dawn, the security guard peeked in, and all he saw were perfectly still paintings. But if he’d looked closer, he might have noticed the ballerina’s slightly different pose, and the mysterious smile on the Renaissance lady’s face – one that hadn’t been there the day before.