A Portrait

This entry is part 8 of 11 in the series Issue II: Fall 2009

by Muriel Gray

Does it come s a surprise that my living room is still so elegant? Some of the porcelain and crystal ornaments were wedding gifts belonging to my mother. Her antique inlaid wood furniture blends perfectly with mine. This produces an air of utmost harmony. I close the door on the noises of New York and revel in my books.

My chosen friends join me, often seeking refuge that I am glad to offer. Their troubles leave no mark on the silent, pale painted walls. The old Aubusson rug with its blue and rose creamy pattern is starting to wear out. Fraying at the edges just like its owner. She hopes to continue offering solace to the seekers. I fear it won’t be long before this clinic is permanently closed.

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