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A Reflection of His Love
Irene hated waking up in a place that was not her bed, but today she felt especially disconnected. Her bed, if she had been in it, would have been on the wall above the bathroom sink. Although her position on the wall defied gravity, Irene did not feel in danger of falling. When she tried to stretch her arms as she normally did whenever she woke up, Irene realized that she was actually mounted to the wall. She opened her mouth to yawn, but, to her horror, her mouth no longer existed. The shower was visible directly across from her, but Irene could not close her eyes or blink. She reasoned that she must not have eyes, or any other physical features. Irene heard the shower faucet turn on and felt the steam settle across her skin. She took a few deep breaths.
This is a dream, she told herself. You can't just go to sleep a person and wake up a mirror.
She heard a rich, velvety voice from inside the shower. Avi's in my dream, she realized. Avi was her boyfriend of nine months. He was an actor, but he also sang very well, as anyone who heard him in the shower could tell. Although they had been together for less than a year, Irene felt like she would be with him for the rest of her life. People always seemed to think they were an odd-looking couple, but Irene knew they completed each other. She was lithe and dark, and he was brawny and golden. When she'd asked Avi why he liked her, he said, "I can talk to anyone, but you are the only one who really understands me."
One of Avi's strong hands reached out and grabbed a towel. The curtain was drawn back, and Avi stepped out, looking like the statue of Greek god with the white towel wrapped over his bronze skin. When he looked right at her, Irene was stunned. Can he see me? She wondered. Then she remembered that she was a mirror.
Avi cleared his throat. "Rose of all roses, rose of all the world," He recited.
Irene loved to hear Avi declaim. She never fully understood a poem until she heard its words on his lips. Even now, when Avi didn't know she was in the room with him, Irene felt like he was speaking directly to her, calling her the only one in the world for him.
What? I thought he couldn't see me! Irene tried to call out to him, but her words fizzled beneath the surface of the mirror.
"Irene, my relationship with you is nothing like I've ever experienced."
Irene never knew that he practiced what to say to her. She thought of all the serious conversations she'd had with him: when he first asked her out, when he told her that he saw a future with her, when he asked her to move in with him. Were they all just monologues from the Book of Avi? She wondered how much of Avi's life was off book. But, she supposed, maybe this was Avi's method of summoning the courage to speak with her. Maybe all the world was his stage, and he sometimes needed to rehearse important scenes in his life.
"It's been unbelievable, " He continued, "But, at this time in my life, what with my acting career taking off, I need more time to focus on myself. It's time for us to part ways." He gave her a look that she'd always thought was sincere, but now realized could only be called calculated. "You know it's for the best, don't you?"
If Irene had hands, she would have slapped him. If she had a mouth, she would have spat on his face, cursed at him, told him she never wanted to see him again. If she had legs, she would have walked away from him. But since she only had a clean, shiny surface that reflected his outer beauty, she was his forever.