So it is...

This started as one thing... and ended as something else entirely. I am not certain how that came to be, but so it is.

She looked into the mirror to find herself,
       and found only a reflection.

So she straightened what could be straightened.  
Smoothed what seemed to need smoothing.

Her outward sigh was slight.
      The inward version louder; containing everything which she felt but could not name.

So typical of her really.

That which was showing was calmed, straightened and smoothed.  
But the inside -- a rough eddying pool of, raw, whiplash emotion.  Self-recrimination, with a mix of regret, tinged with loss, sprinkled with sadness and containing things
       which never were.

Things which cold not be spoken aloud,
    and did not appreciate acknowledgement,
    yet which would no longer go unnoticed.
“Pay me heed NOW” the usually small voice said in an obnoxiously loud.... tone,
    rich in sarcasm.  Her brand of humor.

Memories from days gone by tugged at her.
Tearing her from today's reflection.
Times past.  Time passed.  Memories,
of First's, and of One-and-Only's.
Glances, Gazes, Sighs and a Steady March toward Destined-to-Be.
Road Trips, Side Trips, Head Trips.
Love - the kind that drives you
        to be something better than what you already are.
A richly woven tapestry of a life lived with intent and purpose.

The clock in the other room chimed - interrupting her reverie.
So noted.  A passing of yet one more hour.
The chimes - music of a bygone era. 
A small movement in the symphony of a lifetime.
So many hours ticked by unnoticed.  So many chimes rung.

The clock - once a symbol of home.  No longer hers.
Now - merely another something to be packaged and shipped.
So much of a life to be packaged and shipped.

Toward the mirror once more she faced herself.
Smiled.
In an effort to find her way to hopeful.
Seeking to look fulfilled.
What she achieved, however
    was an ill-concealed uncertainty.

Was this not what she most wanted?
A culmination of all that that had come earlier.
Moments which had finally built to
     .....  this.

Another sigh found it’s way to her lips.
Escaped unbidden.  

Perhaps a cigarette?  
    No.  That does not belong to this time.
    That is something belonging to another part of her.
    Attached to an older and more tired version of herself.
That part of her was not welcome here or now.

Her final glance into the glass revealed a flash
    of her truest self.
She did not see the beauty.
    She saw the cliche.
She saw the totality of what she had never been willing to acknowledge.
    Her common-ness
    Her everybodyelse-ness
    Her ...
        human-ness

Hiding herself
Behind intelligence and random acts of kindness.

Here she acknowledged all that she was.
     . . . . human
Giving herself away bit by bit.
    Until she was empty.
And wanting.

Always wanting.
    Something
else.

There was no time to reflect on this now.
It was time - NOW!

 ... to go.

To get to the place she most wanted to be.

She knew by knowing,
    Now was the time.

She knew by the change in the charge of air.
She simply knew....
    Whom.
    Him.
    Him whom she’d known for a seeming eternity.
    Now Him whom she wondered if she’d ever known at 
         all.
.....
An entire life story contained in one look.
Pain, sacrifice, an off-brand code of honor.
A smile offered.
A tilt of the head as an acknowledgement.

The slight tilt was the tell.

And as she saw this,
   She knew.

This would never change.
He would never change.
What she saw was all it ever would be.
     Perhaps all it ever was.

so....

 It came to this.
   As short clang of the chime announced the passing of yet   another quarter of an hour.
   
    The time was now
      And it had come

Time
        To bid welcome,
            To the final goodbye.

Author's Note

more experimentationalism

Reviews

[Dr. Wood ?]

you have a unique style that sort of lulls the reader in..almost without warning. This was a wonderful journey you took me on, I too could relate to the reference to cigarettes..Don't smoke now, haven't for years but there was a time when that demon used to pull at my resolve in more bitter circumstances

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Thank you so very much for your review and kind comments. They are received with much gratitude. Always enjoy knowing what the experience of the reader is. I only know what calls me to throw words on a page. Thank you :)

[Dr. Wood ?]

None of us have too much control over what we seem to be compelled to write. Your pen has an expert guide

[Marie]

A mirrow reflect only the outside...never tells us what we want to know...only tells us what it wants to show...

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

OK - THAT was food for thought Marie. Thank you - now I have a headache from pondering THAT too. Appreciated.

[roarke]

This is good. I have a suggestion................................................................ok, you show the inside, and the reflections, and parts of the past float by.....give it some conflict with actual outside reality pushing in. Inside the mind, inside the psyche, inside the mirror, but lashed by the nits and bits of the physical outside waxed in.

I make said suggestion only because this is so intimately well written.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Always constructive... this is a difficult task you've laid out... but am going to try it. It will provide another layer of depth to it. So - stay tuned. Thank you.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

And be prepared for my e-mail stating something like "Now how the HELL am I supposed to do that....?"

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Revised - added a few physical elements representative of past, present, future. Represented in a time piece. A clock.

[roarke]

I think this is going to be a great piece, look at the "why" the lines bring up. There's a lot of introspection here, well written, is there any outside real time affectations that show this as well? Kind of like her thinking about a cigarette. Does she anxiously finger a cigarette as she thinks this? The memories, are there collected memorabilia from her trips stuck around the mirror frame? tickets, matchbooks, photos that she lingers on, showing a what or why about this reverie? Maybe you wrote something lots bigger. Save this draft and use a copy to expand on and let yourself go with it. This is a good piece as is, but now open it up because there's LOTS in it.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Got it. Heard. Thank you.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Wow! This was superbly written! It was an unfolding of self-realization...very honest, poignant, real. You write beautifully.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Thank you greatly my friend. I appreciate your feedback. You know this already though - yes?

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Yes, and the feeling is mutual! :)

[Chris]

"Ya done good - kid!"

- again.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Getting one of those from you (up there) means a lot to me. Thanks Chris.

[EMF]

OK. Let's start off with a nice little statement.
Coughs gently.
THIS IS FICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just thought I'd spell that out before you get the thousand odd 'Are you alright', 'Talk to Me.' Comments.
And bloody good fiction it is. A simple character experimentation that delves deep into a mental state and explores every little corner under an Arc Light. Superbly written and with a clarity of vision few would attempt. Cracking work my friend. It would be interesting to see how this character develops. As from every low there is a high. Wonderful writing.

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

Thank you friend. Exploring - getting away from humor a bit as of late... but irony is, that is what is moving right now. IRONY? ME? LIFE? HUH? Thank you.