Encounters With a Mirror
My reflection gives me a good talking to about aging
I was just hanging around when she stopped in front of me and glared. I was taken aback. Most people smile. A lot of them check their teeth. They push back locks of hair, straighten collars, and pick at blemishes, real or imagined.
But this woman! She got right up in my space. And with a contorted expression of absolute fury, she yelled until I actually fogged up.
“Crows feet?” She screeched. “What the hell? Wrinkles? Are you kidding me?”
I said nothing. Did she expect me to answer? It wasn’t clear. But none of my kind had spoken a word since that powerful Maleficent woman cast a spell ages ago, and we all know how that went.
I wasn’t worried. The woman standing before me clearly had little power, magical or otherwise.
She was only ordinary.
Upon reflection — and let’s face it, I was made for reflection — I realized her ordinariness was part of her problem. Few things irritate an arrogant human more than the realization that they are only human.
I know that makes no sense. But she didn’t seem to know that her anger made no sense. Of course she had wrinkles on her face because — Time!
