The Portrait
The Duke of Westland stared down from his portrait. Walter studied the painting, admiring the duke’s powdered wig and frilled cravat.
Walter’s eyes widened as the duke stepped out of the gilded frame and strode towards him, extending a bejeweled hand. Walter grasped the duke’s icy palm and noticed that the lavish rings now adorned his own fingers. Puzzled, he looked up and met his own gaze. His other self winked, turned, and left the room.
Walter called out and raised his hands but his glittering rings thrashed against the inside of the canvas, causing his powdered wig to slip.
From Guest Contributor Cate Vance
Cate Vance writes from the mountains of Montana where she is inspired by misty mornings, brilliant days, and starry nights. Her short fiction has been featured in Sky Island Journal.
Please support the site by purchasing one of my books on Amazon. Check out Quitting The Grave, a murder mystery set on the Oregon Trail. Plus, don't forget my other books: They Both Loved Vonnegut, Ahab's Adventures in Wonderland, and Picasso Painted Dinosaurs.