Mirror.

Mirror.

There was a young woman who lived on my street. You could watch her early in the morning drinking coffee by her bedroom window or at night walking her dog at the near by park. Her hat was almost hiding the calmness of her face which made her look like a young girl.

She started studying at the local university, but because money had been tight she spent most of her time helping her father at his small accounting office. On Friday evenings she would stop by the flower shop next door to get fresh flowers for their dinner table.

That evening, as she was searching for the keys to her apartment, she heard the voice of a man calling her name. She looked quickly towards the street and kept searching. She finally opened the door. He ran behind her and asked to come in. She walked inside the house and left the door wide open.

“Where have you been?”, she whispered, as she walked towards the kitchen to get water for the flowers.

“You know”.

“I have not heard from you for years…Why did you come back?”, she asked, as she was putting the vase with the flowers on the dining table.

“I told you that I will come back some day!”.

She took off her shoes and walked slowly towards the bathroom. Her image in the mirror started becoming one with the wall behind her, as her tears started running on her face. For a moment she really believed that he was there, behind her…

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