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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Flash Fiction: The Reflection

I looked into the mirror at a reflection that was not my own. Had so much time passed that I didn't even recognize the face staring back at me? The lines of age had seeped into the cracks in my skin, the bags under my eyes more pronounced than I remembered. A little darker, a lot fatter, hardly a flicker of the person I used to be.

I splashed another handful of cold water on my face, a poor effort to wash away the years. I watched the water trickle in small rivulets down the creases in my skin amd drop into the waiting sink below. Running my hand though my thinning hairline I was forced to look at yet another facet of my dying youth. The strands of hair cut so much closer to my head than in my younger days, the once dark locks now flecked with wisps of gray.

The dark shadows of stubble that covered my cheeks and the thick mustache that I once so coveted now simply acted as another reminder that shorter days lay ahead. My fingertips brushed the coarse whiskers and I let out a small sigh. Was I still the same person I used to be? Or have I been replaced by the man looking back at me? Was it too late to recapture what I have lost?

Turning from the bathroom I flicked off the light and prepared to get dressed. Another day had come to past, as time not love seems to last. Perhaps today would carry new answers, if not, there was always tomorrow.

End of Line.

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