he leaned forwardset his bottle of beer downpaused Masaki Kobayashis Kwaidan

indie protested  he was warm and quiethad been asleep on his lap 

Sorry big guy Nature calls

he set the disgruntled cat to the sideat his hip no simple feat indie was a big boynearly twenty pounds he rolled inside his fur

indie dropped heavily to the floor between the couch and the coffee table and sauntered indignantly to the screened front door somebody out there must love him certainly not this peckerwood

indie bemused him

he stood then he crossed livingroom to enter the hall to the canentering the happy comfort that he could afford a can and the house around it

that comfort was usually greeted by a tall mirror he affixed to the wall at the end of the hall between the laundry and the master bedroom

                     whenever he considered the master bedroom it humoured him it was a small housejust over eighthundred square feet the other room that might be touted a bedroom he used as a study he placed his desk files tall two door metal cabinet in it he hung his framed collection of newspaper front pages MAN WALKS ON THE MOON KENNEDY SLAIN South Viets Surrender SENATOR KENNEDY SHOT yellowed paper now that he collected when he was a teenager delivering newspapers he framed them behind museum quality glass they were historic he had enormous respect for historyfor not repeating mistakesmissteps

he enjoyed entering the hall and seeing himself reflected in the glass lit by a pale nightlight aimed up at the ceiling from an electrical outlet a mused figure lacking definition  him nevertheless

his reflection warmly clothed his comfort

                                           although of late he saw his reflection was slowly  slowly   slowly diminisheddegraded disparate the mirror was troubled to recognise him

this evening he threw almost no reflection

his comfort bellyached more than indies indignation

hed be a liar if he said he didnt feel himself becoming less than who he was when someone is not true to themselves they cant hope to hold onto the firmamenttheir singular concrete presence

in the end everything comes out of the washcomes OUT in a mirror hung in a house that he could afford

he knew the correction

hed been disguising it

rather

       she was disguising it

action

       not words

for months he sought refuge in her wordsin her promises but they proved empty weekend by weekend by weekend across the summer fall and into winter

the glass blatantly said NO

                            he wasnt worth its while to show

it challenged him  it was his turnwasnt it

isnt it

yes  it was his turn

                  

2027,  Monday,  10  12. 18

1603,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  12  12. 18