Friday, 22 August 2014
Flash fiction Friday: The Portrait
As I walked passed the painting, without even stopping to look at it, an ice cold chill fell over the room. Instantly stopping I turned my head, to see if someone had opened a door or window, and found myself drawn to the pale face of the woman staring back at me from the canvas. Frozen to the spot I was unable to stop staring in to her dark eyes, no matter how hard I tried.
Suddenly the woman reached forward, placed an ice cold hand on my shoulder and stepped out of the picture, just before everything went black.