Scarlet Letters

She passed the mirror and saw herself and thought I'm not that real. To reflect. Take the colors in that glass and change them to show what I am.

It'd never been easier to live with herself. Never getting out of bed. Making everything happen from under those covers.

See, she said to herself, there can't be any reflection.

Under here. In this darkness.

So what did I see? She asked the night. Who was that person that looks so familiar. So much like I once did, but can't be me.

Just embers the memory said. Just the failing coals on an unkempt fire.

He peered through the music. As if it was a barrier between them. His expression arranging them carefully. Two piles. The sound and the silence.

And she wondered what he saw. Thinking to herself there was nothing at all to see. She looked back at him through the silence and saw herself in his grin. When a stray arm reached out and pulled her down.

And she saw herself for the first time since. As the moment's fist opened to reveal.

Not a reflection. Too real.

Alone again.