Just Some Writing

We stared into the mirror for hours, trying to puzzle out our reflections in the cracked surface. A shattered web spun across it, a hungry spider tucked away beneath the shards. It’s unsettling, staring into a thousand pairs of your own eyes; an audience of you attending your performance.

She sat beside me on the bench, just as still and silent as I. The dust we had stirred up began to settle on our drying jackets. I wondered what went through her mind. Her mouth didn’t close. I bet it could have caught more flies than the spider.

My joints began to jangle, my legs bobbin’ up and down a bit. I’m not sure if that’s why she moved, but she reached out toward the mirror. Her finger just barely, and I mean barely, touched the glass. Everything came tumbling down with a clatter.

The sound was a painful jarring of the senses. There was a ring in my ear. It must have come off my finger when I picked at the scab.

There we sat, looking around the dingy empty room, then finally at each other. Her mouth was still open. The words began to trickle slowly like a young stream. I remarked on how parched she seemed, and we quietly left in search of water.

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About corkedbottle

Hello hello. I'm a guy that likes to write and is really good at not writing. I've never thought of myself as a good writer, but it's fun, and I'll never get better if I don't write more!
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