When this light flickers, I shudder within. Not for fear but rather for concern. What would they see, is what I wonder. I notice the white chair in the room and this makes me uncomfortable. The broken lamp in the corner is a symbol of my past. It is then that I remember the boy’s words clearly.
‘I miss my mum and my sisters. I would daddy too, if he wasn’t here.’
How do I say that I am not in the picture? How do I say that I am in it but you can’t see me?
I know that I’ll smile, even though I don’t want to. For if I frown, it would be considered unfriendly.
In this instance I can hear the voice from many miles away. He is singing wearily to find strength and I am just about breathing to feel mine. Blue jeans from the catalogue that do not fit. I am crooked before this broken mirror. This wretched statue hides the true nature of my beauty.
Suddenly the stairs creak under his heavy footfalls, then a brief pause before it flashes. That’s me you see before the camera and that’s you staring blindly, right back at me.
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