The Woman in the Mirror

By Lucia Lopez

The crystal chandelier chimes, blown by a breeze I do not feel. The book in my hands slips, and my eyes dart around.

But the house still slumbers soundly; the windows lay shut and locked. The old furniture stands proud even in shadow but over in the corner, the mirror glows.

The moonlight must be playing with my tired, dull eyes, but for a moment, I am sure that there is a woman in the mirror.

She floats by the chandelier, which lazily lights her pearly skin. Her eyes flicker dark as the night sky but with a spark like a single star.

A flower crown is fitted to her flowing hair woven of color foreign to this house. Her silk dress flows, fine and free, a lost beauty stolen from the past.