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Co/veil/ent

peeks in valleys

By JPublished 2 months ago Updated 2 months ago 1 min read
5
Eyes - Karl Sisson

There is a woman who comes to my window, once a day, every day, like clockwork. She stands and she stares, pointing fingers at my family and the misappropriation in the placement of our things. I cannot hear the words she shouts or know the anger she must feel, helpless to communicate the error of our ways. When I go out to shoo her, as I've done on tired days, she is gone before I make it to the door. When I act oblivious to all her futile rage, she takes it out on panes of glass 'til brittle bones pound sore.

Today, I think, I'll let her in; offer her a tea, and ask her if she'd like to stay for dinner. I see her at the grocery store, wearing dark sunglasses, and pushing her cart into piles of fruit with wreckless hope. I'll wait, I think.

This afternoon, she does not come. Nor the next, or after. I never see her at the store again. But once a day, every day, like clockwork I imagine myself standing at a curtain made of stone: Obsidian, opaque, and menacing as everything I've wondered at but never ascertained.

My reflection points to me, and I point back.

Stream of ConsciousnessShort StoryPsychologicalMicrofictionFable
5

About the Creator

J

I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil

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Comments (6)

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  • Tracy Kreuzburg 2 months ago

    This was well done, reminding me of the times I feel disconnected from myself, and then coming back from it.

  • Cathy holmes2 months ago

    Ah. I see what you did there. I wasn't expecting that ending, but well done. Wraps it all up perfectly.

  • Hannah Moore2 months ago

    I'm reading this with a sense of having looked social mores in the face and found them impotent, but still feeling their presence from within all the same.

  • Erin Shea2 months ago

    this is so atmospheric and well-executed!! I also love the cover art!

  • C. Rommial Butler2 months ago

    When mirror regards mirror which is the reflection? Do we deduce the truth of self, or experience it directly? Why can't it be both? Well-wrought, friend!

  • Oooo, I loved that ending! So unexpected!

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