Jose's bathroom mirror does not believe the lies Jose tells. Jose does not know that mirrors are infinite pools of truth-- there for the asking--but Jose would never ponder such a thing, because the only truth he needs is that he's stone, cold chiseled from black peaks and bears the perfect grin. "Slaya" he thinks, he winks, and ambles from the room.   Jose's mirror refrains from telling him he will phase into the pale moon of his father.  Jose's mirror overhears singing in the next room and knows there will be tears and pain very soon now. Jose's mirror waits a long time and wonders if Guillermo, the new face, will look for the truth that hangs from Jose's peeling wall.

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Comment by Robert Crisman on May 21, 2012 at 1:13am

Very nicely done. Slaya, trying to kill the insides dead...

Comment by Stephen Torelli on May 20, 2012 at 8:00pm

A telling tale, Kristine. This reminds me of the ongoing... or shall I say... the stalled lives in many Newburgh, N.Y. flats.  

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