Smoke and Mirrors

A man has fallen in love with a woman who can see everything and everyone but him. Will he ever get to express his love to her, or will he keep it bottled up?

    There she goes. Her name is Shelby: the goddess with flowing chestnut locks. I’ve watched her walk to work every night for the past four years. You know how people often wonder if there is another world on the other side of the reflection in a mirror or a window? That’s where I live. Most of us can’t see into your world, like most of you can’t see into ours. But, one day, I could see her: her dreamy ice blue eyes, her plump lips painted red and in a sad smile, her almost white skin.

    She is loved by many men; they see her body, her skin, her hair. They throw money at her as she plays the same game she’s played for years. But I love her for her tears, her paintings, her angelic singing in the shower. I’ve memorized every song she sings. My favorite song is the sad one about the kiss.

    She can’t see or hear me. I just watch as she lives her life, going through the motions. I felt invasive: I still do at times, like when she gets out of the shower or when I follow her to work. But I want to make sure she is safe. I want to make sure she makes it home okay.

    I’m walking with her back to her apartment. She made a lot tonight, but that man made her uncomfortable. I wish I could have been there to stop him. She’s going up the stairs to shower. I’ve waited four years - I don’t think my heart can bear waiting any longer. She begins to sing:

    “Dark hair for catching the wind,

    Not to veil the sight of a cold world.”

***

    Shelby sings her song in the shower, trying to wash away that man’s touch. She hears a male voice singing over the water, so she shuts it off. He continues:

    “Kiss while your lips are still red,

    While he’s still silent rest,

    When bosom is still untouched,

    Unveiled, hold another hand.”

    Shelby tears back the curtain and looks in the mirror. Instead of her reflection, Shelby sees a young man with blue hair standing in a white room. He stops singing and stares at her.

    “Y-you can see me,” he stammers, looking shy. Shelby just blinks at him. Now it all makes sense: the feeling of safety walking to and from work, the sighs when she painted, the man from her dreams. Shelby slowly lifts her hand and puts it against the glass. The man hesitates then places his against the glass as well. For the first time, Xander has touched the woman he loves.