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The Guise

Elegant, determinant and in whispers of perfection, Miffin Relic feigned interest in the portrait. Revealed by the profound hysterics of a foolish esteem, an overblown desire for approval, the portrait was a misfortune of oblique angles and rioting namelessness.

The gallery was owned by Abbot Spume and he was a jabbering magician of the least and lowest sort. " The form is splendid isn't it Miffin? Simply splendid and just a bit mythical, Relic don't you agree?" Relic had offered in expectation of a compliment on his genius. "Wonderful!" Miffen replied in false airs of discernment. The portrait was articulate in a certain regard. It showed two very tattered looking men conversing in front of a portrait. The portrait was, in turn, of two well dressed elite standing before a mirror, the reflection in vagabond rags. Miffin hated the portrait with passionate and absolute decision. "Atrocious!" he whispered to himself.

The large plate glass window on the shadowy gallery hall wavered for an instant as two raggedy, "Bums!" Miffin said out loud, peered into the gallery. Overwhelmed by irritated tempers of rage Miffin Relic tightened his fist "Fraud!" he said aloud.

Story by:

Ron Koppelberger

will806095@bellsouth.net

submitted at 9:20am

10 June 2011