GLARING

 


He was wearing those reflector shades.


You know the kind, all macho Top Gun style that make you feel as though your life has become a vast, bottomless cavern of vacuous nothingness.


He smiles, relishing my annoyance.


I walk away.


He phones, asking why?


My reflection was glaring, I say.


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Published on August 10, 2017 09:04
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Postcard from a Pigeon

Dermott Hayes
Musings and writings of Dermott Hayes, Author
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