Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the thirty-eighth piece of flash fiction in this series. This week’s is a 925-worder by poet and article writer Kimberly Gray.
Her reflection calls her Tess
And it was her reflection that she spent most of her time with now. Suppose it had been this way longer than she cared to admit. Just the mirrors changed.
Reflections are funny things. Take a mirror for example, and you’re in its frame. Naked, no make-up, hair pulled back on a short cut shag rug in gray, completing the picture is a rose crystal chandelier, ever so fragile, dangling above your head.
What details strike us? What colors illuminate? How much light do we notice? Are there details in the mirror? What is behind us?
Her tiny frame was misleading, even to the two men escorting her from home, and taking her coat once…
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