MarioMancuso
Quick Mirror
Pausing for a moment, she fixes her hair and worries that it makes her seem vain.
Today there was another anonymous letter. Like before it tells her how lovely she is, how shy the writer is, and how he is so very intimidated by her crowd. Again there is no name. Like the others it is sealed with wax, marked with a # stamp. She frowns at her reflection, is he watching her now?
Has he walked towards her, on this very street, forcing confidence to power his feet? Then when four metres away, lost courage, done a 90º turn, and hidden behind a car. Is he watching her right now?
“Everyone exists in their own world. All these strangers on the street. The clouds churn above us, it might rain, we might all get wet. Today I might make something truly beautiful happen, or maybe I have a secret cancer growing inside me, or perhaps I’ll see the first butterfly of spring. Perhaps he’s watching right now as I fix my hair. That #, he thinks he knows all about me, but he knows nothing.”
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Rachel Irving and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
