She first appeared in my mirror when I was fifteen. Each visit she promised everlasting health and beauty.
Every year, as the lines in my face etched deeper, resisting got harder. But my vanity wasn’t that precious. When I broke my hip getting out of the shower, though, her promise eclipsed my resolve.
After I gave in, I felt strong again. Wrinkles faded to rumors of plastic surgery. I changed cities. Started over. But I slept longer each night, dreaming of mirrors.
Now I stare at her wearing my face, forever young and strong, from the other side of the mirror.
I enjoyed reading this story. My mirror probably tells me a very different story as I get older. Fortunately my eyesight won’t let me see any wrinkles.
I’m glad you liked it 🙂
Well done. Left me thoughtful.
Thank you!
Well done. Love the rather haunting finish. Scary stories involving mirrors always creep me out. Yours definitely gave me chills. Masterful.
Thanks Garth!
I enjoyed the read… I don’t often use a mirror but I quite like my few smile lines when I do… kudos…
I’m glad you liked it, Valli!
Loved the spooky overtones to this.