Mirror Image (Twisted Tales 148)
There she was. Again. But it couldn't be. I went to the funeral. I personally kissed her cold lips in the funeral home after signing the Cremation papers. Told her good bye and wished her peace after her long struggle. And I walked out. wondering where I was going to do. All there has been for five years is emptiness, existing on vodka and smack. Sun isn't bright. Night isn't dark. Been with a few women and a couple of men since. None of the relationships were right. Just cold comfort and self inflicted pain to erase the memory, marking my time and until time to face the cremation pyre. But here she is in the mirror. Smiling? For what? I can't reach through the glass. When she first came, I thought I must have had something slipped into my drink. I wanted to run, but I found myself transfixed by the hazel eyes and curly hair. Must be something in the Horse doing it. Maybe I should stop chasing her....