Mirror | Mirror
Her paddleboat is a glorified bicycle on water. Yet it skims the mirrored surface, on dreams of tranquillity. She is leaving the shores of eroded memories, of this long and prosperous life. She envisions the sunsets of Monet.
How she has lived. How she has loved. How she has taken everything, from every day.
She leaves behind the solid and the firm. Her world is becoming liquid and malleable.
She sees the glittering grains of distant shores. Of warm sand between her toes. Of sipping salt-rimmed Mojitos that she will savour in the breathless wind.
In life’s mirror, she sees herself.
Beneath the mirror of the surface, they watch her cycle across the great sea, on dreams of delusion.
They will have her soon. They will gorge on her refracted versions of history. For they know what she has done, they know what she has chosen to forget.
How she has killed. How she has hated. How she had taken everything, from every day.
She leaves behind safety. Their world is becoming solid.
They see her future shores of whitewashed bones. Of hot lava underfoot. Of thirsty gasps for liquid rimmed with sulphur. Of ferocious winds that will never die.
For life’s mirror is an opposite image, a reflection.
I got a nice Special Mention for the use of structure, which I am very thankful for.