The Portrait

She was staring at me in the antique shop.

I tried to ignore her.

I walked by her and glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She smiled

just a little. Kind of Mona Lisa like.

She seemed to be saying, "Don't leave me here!"

"What am I going to do with you?" I said to her with my mind. "If I have an old picture hanging in my house, it's a family member. When someone asks me who someone is in any picture in my house, I can say it's my Great Grandmother or someone related."

"I could care less!" she glared, while seeming to want me to notice her strand of pearls and matching screw back pearl earrings. "I didn't get all dressed up in this black lace and pearls, to have my portrait painted, to end up sitting on a dusty shelf in an antique shop! And these earrings are killing me!"

"I don't even know your name," I mumbled to her. "Now how will I explain you in my home?"

"Just tell folks I'm your Great Great distant long lost Aunt or cousin. I don't care. Just get me out of this antique shop and take me home with you!"

I picked up the hand painted portrait and looked at the price tag on the back. When I looked back up at the shelf, a one half price sale sign seemed to suddenly appear. Maybe it was already there, but I think she made it appear to tempt me.

"OK, I said to her. I'm going to take you home with me. I'm not sure where I'll put you, but I'll take you home. And I think you look like a Agnes."

"Agnes Bofflehoffer."

"Come on and lets go to my house, Agnes Bofflehoffer! I'll find a nice, cozy place for you. But you might find a little dust at my house too!"

"Agnes smiled again."

From the mind of me.