The Glass Doll

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The girl in the reflection stares back into my eyes, as I look into her charcoal-rimmed blues. Her face, made blurry by the glass pane, shows pink lips, and dark eyes. The girl’s straight blonde hair falls to her shoulders in layers, and barely visible near her ear a small braid, tied with a green elastic, rests. Her shoulders face me, and she stands directly forward, only the top of her dark grey tee can be seen. Her expression is not unkind, though her eyes show no warmth. They burn through me like small coals just taken from a fire. Her lips turn only faintly upward in the smile that could only be described as haughtily victorious. At the same time, however, sadness and fear touch the edges of her mouth, somehow this making her all the more powerful. As she stands burning through me, a guy comes up beside her. He’s taller then the girl in the reflection, nearly able to rest his chin on her head, and muscular, dwarfing her, though she seems athletic, and curvy. His hands seem to rest on her right hip, and he kisses her head, denting the blonde curtain for a moment. Still, she keeps gazing strongly at me. Her expression doesn’t falter, and she remains an intimidating snow angel melting me with ice. I turn away, but as I glance back I see the girl in the glass smiling slightly, pleased she has won.





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