Fiction · Prose

What does the mirror tell you?

She stared at the mirror, familiarizing her every feature. Trying to hold on to her own identity, the one unstained and untouched by him.

Her eyes; dark as her soul, outlined by a regal thin wall of blue as he said. Her nose; how often does he pinch it when in a playful mood. Her lips; how his brushed it softly, passionately, intensely. Her hair; he has always loved the wild, long curves of her hair. Has always admired how it falls gracefully right down her shoulders and chest.

She stared at the mirror, she can only see traces of him. Traces he left behind when he shut the door. Traces of him all over her body. How badly does she want to take all of him out of her; out of her body, out of her mind, out of her life.

She stared at the mirror.

In her eyes, she see fire. A fire set on her soul. A fire that burns brightly, so bright he could not even touch the surface. A fire so pure, no remnants of him can be found.

She stared at the mirror. Closed her eyes, took hold of her hair. Snip. Snip. Snip. The wild long curves falling recklessly on the ground. Snip. Snip. Snip.

She stared at the mirror. She saw herself.

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19 thoughts on “What does the mirror tell you?

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