Classic Mirror (short story)
She’s here... our eyes meet in the reflexion and I feel as if time has stopped if only for a second, but the momentum is broken when she dissipates her gaze, and I find myself doing the same. But there’s a mystery that consumes me, and it’s not the first time it does so... and I can’t help but to sneak a peek at her out of the corner of my eye. I realize she’s grown thinner, and her gentle clothes almost seem perched upon her; her jaw is clenched and highly marked, and the cheeks that once glistened-rosy pink, no longer shine. She fiddles the pages of a book I’d yet to notice- but over the frame of the mirror I can’t make it out. And it makes me wonder... if she’s waiting for someone like I waited for her, or if she’s doing that thing again, the wait- as if something magnificent and improbable were to occur any second now. And I wonder if she recognizes me- and I’m suddenly reminded of a dishonored native indian as I notice her short-cropped hair and recall the mane she used to carry.
Strange... so strange- there she is staring back at me, through the mirror, intensely and there’s a smile fading from her face. She stares at me and I can’t look away- as much as I want to- I can’t look away and she can’t, either. That’s when I realize that I’m no longer a stranger sitting in the same bar, she’s recognized me and I see an almost smirk forming on the edge of her lips and I wonder what all that’s about but I find myself mimicking such actions. And I can’t take it anymore- my actions feel like inaction's over controlled. Her dark eyes are burning my mind and I see her look down at her hands, so I follow the trail she leaves, and I cannot look, I don’t want to look... I can’t take it anymore, but I can’t help but look out of the corner of my eyes. I see her, caress scars that flow from her wrist up her arm- but there’s no smirk on her face, that’s long gone. She looks as confused and uneasy as she’s making me feel. And I can’t take it anymore, I can’t take looking at her anymore. I grab my self mutilated bangs push them off my face and bring them to a chokehold because it’s the only thing keeping me from exploding- and I catch her doing the same. And I get up, with the last force I know myself to bare- and before I walk out this place I’ll turn around and look at her once more over that classic mirror... and I hope not to bare witness to what is to happen next.
