After a sad summer, numbing fall ensues. Mim sleepwalks on city streets hoping Anton’s car passes by and their love story stops it. When the car pulls at the curb, she falls in, blinded by love. Their bodies together, in a love halo, a membrane that, oh my God, bursts open, and the fall outside sets between them.
The Mirror is Chapter 7 of my first novel, a sensuous romance published in 2017 as Traveling True. As powerful as the road, the mirror is a symbol that reflects, absorbs, distorts, and transports….
Lonely in Stefan’s apartment, Mim types to numb pain caused by his gangrening mistake. Caught between his love and her hate, Mim recalls Stefan’s guilty dressing-up ceremonial, his other mistake, and his heartbreaking, loving gaze – a grief hieroglyph.
The car skids onward neighing, a bitten mare, then comes to a stuck halt. Horns, brakes, a ragged doll thrown away. A last spasm squats her memory and the flux of remembrances gushes out of Mim, toxic and stinking. The stench also gushes through Anton’s nostrils and mouth and glassy eyes, transfixed. He mumbles something, is scolding her. Yes, Mim has misbehaved again.
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