Mirror

So, maybe it was just a dream. I know that it can’t be real, right?

I think it started because everything was going wrong in life.

Lately the mirror had become an enemy. I looked into it and didn’t recognize the reflection: it was a person of faded hair, and loose skin. There were wrinkles on her forehead, and her eyes had lost the shine that had got me those contracts selling mascara.

I’d stopped putting makeup on, not only because it seemed to look funny — like a painted skull — ...