Black Cat Journal

i peek into the frosted mirror. the image dusted with grains of sparkling sugar. eyes reflect the sanitized light. hair absorbing steam, rises and billows in the unseen updraft.

“you look familiar” i whisper with a wry grin.

“i used to know you”

“when?”

“you were smaller. “

“i’m not exactly the epitome of height you know.” i shift my weight. my toes curl into the woolly shag of the rug. red tipped snakes coiling through white woolen grass.

“smaller. younger.”

i squint my eyes into the reflective glass. “you still look familiar.”

“as do you. you’ve grown a bit since i last saw you. and yet, you are the same. perhaps less sure of yourself. perhaps more jaded.”

“aren’t we all?” i sigh. i pick up a hairbrush. it’s teeth cruel and wicked. i place it back upon the cold hard porcelain, unused.

“some more than others.”

“so i’m less sure? more jaded. anything else happen in the past twenty some odd years? more ass? less cute? definitely bigger breasts.” i say over my shoulder as i smooth lanolin heaven across my tired calves.

“most noticeably the jaded. the insecurity. but you are still the same. it’s quite remarkable. i can still see you. even inside your well constructed armor.”

my hand stops halfway up my thigh. “i see.” lotion falls to moisturize the bathrug.

“why did you build such a thick wall? such heavy plating about yourself? it must be terribly difficult to walk with such a burden about your shoulders.”

“one gets used to it.”

“but why?”

“i wouldn’t have had too if you hadn’t left me.” my hand moves stiffly back to my leg. the lotion is cold even though it has been pooled in my palm for minutes. my skin crawls. i feel my heart thud angrily against my ribs. i can’t breath. i close my eyes and begin to count.

“one, two, three, four…”

“not helping.”

“didn’t realize i was meant to.”

“i noticed as much. you never were one to help.”

“and you never asked. you look familiar.”

“as do you. why did you leave?”

“you didn’t seem to want me. you never asked for help. you never listened to me anyways.”

“i was scared.” i raise my head towards the mirror, eyes closed.

“so was i. i am here now. open your eyes.”

i gaze into coffee bean eyes. the same shape and size as my own. the all too familiar sadness is gone. my lips are moist. my chin is petite. my nose is a button. eyebrows arch quizzically. my hair continues to flutter on the currents rising from my body. i reach a hand out to touch the glass. “you look familiar.”

“you look beautiful.”

“ditto. it’s been a long time.”