Friday, 27 December 2013
Mirrors (for Friday Fictioneers)
I moved in here three weeks ago hoping I'll grow as a person. However, things didn't go at all like that.
Day, night, it doesn't matter when, two mirrors high atop a tower that's ten feet away from my apartment light me up.
Their brightness seeps through the window, shades, even cardboard stand, and burns me.
I've been to the hospital twice, to get a check-up. Health deteriorated between visits. Probably since then, too. I haven't had the money to go a third time. Eyes are shot.
Heard the last owner died.
Shotgun and shells are in closet. Better use