Reflection
On the hottest day, she sat in the bare front room of the house, facing west, looking into the ball of the sun. She wore nothing but a silk slip that clung to her damp skin. Sitting in the one hard chair, she could see herself in the reflection from the window, frowning and headachey. In the darkness behind her, away from her bright square of sun, he was standing in the doorway.
She often did this, on the hottest days. Drenching herself in the sun, suffering too much, feeding her experience. She wanted to remember, to make these hours part of her. She was drawn to this, an airless room in the eye of a stifled heat.
She ran a hand down her thigh, smoothing the pale silk. He was behind her. “You used to be so close,” she said. “I used to wear you, next to my skin.” A bead of sweat ran down her neck and settled in the hollow of her throat. The empty room was inverted in its convex lens.
“But now…” her voice trailed off. Her hands rested on her knees. “Now I can’t tell which side of my skin you’re on.”
Behind her, he moved. She could see his reflection, the white face and blue shirt. She could smell his sweat as he stirred the air. He held a beer, as he always did at this time of the afternoon, cold and wet from the freezer. And suddenly he pressed the bottle to the bare skin at the nape of her neck.
A shock, a thrill, a jolt of ice pierced her. Transfixed, she closed her eyes, stiffened her back and gulped at the warm air.
He retreated, his eyes caressing her as he moved away, wordlessly, to the shadow. She opened her eyes and stood up, gracefully gaining her feet in one fluid movement. She turned her back to the window and walked towards the closed door, where his blue shirt draped from the hook like a hanged man.
desktop
tablet-landscape
content-width
tablet-portrait
workstream-4-across
phone-landscape
phone-portrait
desktop
tablet-landscape
content-width
tablet-portrait
workstream-4-across
phone-landscape
phone-portrait
Artwork Comments
wow..well written! definately got my attention! “You used to be so close,” she said. “I used to wear you, next to my skin.” …like i said..very well written! hehe
oh, where are you Mr Bones? This side of the mirror, or the other?
Fascinating….. i just keep re-reading it over and over. Excellent piece.
Fantastic imagery. Like lightsmith I’ve read the story several times; enjoying the depth and mood of the piece
Is this the first story you have written for RB? I hope to read more.
thanks for your comments… yes, I’m new to RB, and this is my first post. More to come, I hope.
Well your first is definately a great one. Excellent work.
Well this is a great first start!
Welcome to RB and Twisted Tales
This is a stunning piece. My only concern is the twist….which I have completely missed. However, I am wondering what else you have in store for us…this is an amazing first post!
Thanks, JC. The twist (of sorts) is that the lover’s presence was imagined; she really couldn’t tell if he was inside or out.
Nice. You’ve written the atmosphere so well I felt like I was there. Well done and welcome to RB