Member-only story
Satirical Update to a Classic Novel
Dorian Gray’s Castle for Sale After an Art Gallery Disaster
When Immortals Struggle With Boredom
On a blustery afternoon, Dorian Gray looked over the ledge of his castle and watched leaves fall into the lake. Boats sailed by. Egrets flew in the sky.
Dorian moved to the estate a century ago. It’s hidden in York. As Dorian swirled his wine and considered smoking another cigarette, a curious thought blossomed. Something he used to fear might quell his ever-growing boredom. Should he enjoy another afternoon watching ducks or venture toward something with more bang?
He went up a staircase to a hallway he hadn’t visited in decades. A hideout castle is necessary for an immortal with a long list of sins. Some of his misadventures are dark and daring, and some are rather silly: hitting mailboxes with baseball bats, eating loudly during a movie, or trespassing onto a property for the perfect Instagram snap with a giant chicken statue.
Dorian lifted a key ring and fitted a curious purple key to the doorknob of the forbidden room. He entered the small room with relics: a wooden box containing Saint John’s teeth, a sword emblazoned with rubies given to Queen Elizabeth II and stolen during a fire at Buckingham Palace, and silver candelabras used at the wedding of Napoleon and his first wife Joséphine.
A giant portrait with a tarp leaned against a wall. Dorian moved objects out of his way to get closer to the portrait— it haunted his waking life, but with growing apathy and plenty of time to do whatever he dreamed, the portrait somehow seemed like a wickedly fun romp.
The picture, created long ago, contained Dorian’s soul. It aged while he stayed young, beautiful, and seemingly innocent. Every evil he committed stained the portrait, not himself.
He lifted the tarp off the large picture and laughed.
The picture, after so many decades of debauchery, looked ludicrous. It came off cartoonish and loony, like a villain from a second-rate Zelda game. It…
