A fleeting peripheral glance was all it took to send my mind asunder. confused thoughts and words knocking through my skull in numbingly frigid waves, bringing a dull ache to the back of my eyes.
Timeless years spent relying only on my hands to guide appearance, guesses as to the correct placement of garments worn. Thankful for the kind enough aid from those employed under the house pointing out when things hadn't sat as they should.
I've had the fortune of seeing myself from time to time in the reflective gleam of a window, but it has always been partially unclear or distorted. All this is due to a mirror's inability to draw and hold the image of someone equaling myself.
And yet...
My feet rooted through the soles of laced shoes encapsulating them where I stand on the paved walkway. To my left is a shop. The warming breeze wafts a pungent mineral smell of paint into full assault on my sensitive nose, promising a migraine. This one is newly leased and renovated. Through the vision piercing sheen of clean glass, rests a mirror.
No.
Not just "a" mirror. Dozens. This is a mirror shop. Trapped inside them, my reflection.
Lung's collapse and expand, drawing air through withered hollows webbing through the organ. Muscle memory attempting to draw the initial shock out from the halls of my being.
Chesnut brown hair swiped back with gel marginally shining under the sun, amber honey eyes, no wrinkles or blemishes to be found as was expected with the unnatural lure, pale and nearly luminescent skin contrasting the maroon suit, all held together with a black button down and grey silk tie neatly tucked into the closed front.
'is that...'
At least, stiff legs moved, bringing it all ever nearer.
Gaze grappling what my other senses cannot and tearing through the image, penetrating for any flaw or misgiving that I'm not truly the other who looks back in the same manner.
'Me?'
Seeing the muscles under my eyes and around my mouth tug and pull the previously discomforted expression into a curious smile edged a strange familiarity into my chest cavity.
Relaxing into the moment I have been stripped of for so long; two words I utter so softly as though it were a forgotten secret between friends,
"Welcome back."
YOU ARE READING
The Vampire and the mirror shop
Fantasybased on a this pinterest prompt, William Scroul, a vampire since the 1500's returns from war and actually sees himself after having long since almost forgotten.
