The Kind Mirror

The mirror in my room is one of those narrow ones made to hang on a closet door. It came from G-Fresh's room when we did some swapping around at Flock Hall, and for a long time it wasn't mounted on anything. Mostly it was just leaned against one wall or another. This put a very slight bow in it, and rapidly made it the most popular mirror in the house. Fleur and G-Fresh both loved to use that mirror, and I imagine even Flynn checked himself out in it more than once.

You see, where gravity distorted its shape, it kindly distorted the effects of gravity on the viewer. It made all of us look taller, thinner, and generally more fit and attractive. It was subtle thing - not cartoonish at all - and thus it was incredibly alluring.

I knew it wasn't a true representation of my appearance, but I didn't care; that mirror made me feel ok about leaving the house each day. I'd look at myself in the mirror at the end of the hall downstairs and be unhappy about the results, but the magic mirror in my room always made it all better. For a few seconds, my image in the mirror would match my inner vision of myself, and it was great. I was 6'1" and tipped the scales at about 190.

Today I got industrious about cleaning and organizing in my room. I pulled out the electric screwdriver, and finally mounted the mirror on one of the doors. The screws hold it firmly in place, and flush with the door - thereby negating it's gentle curve. When I was done putting in the last screw I stepped back, and there I was again, my usual, doughy, 5'11" self.

Don't get me wrong - I am less doughy than I have been in years, thanks to running and kettlebells, but I was still saddened by the death of my svelter reflection. Having him die today was bad timing also (although I'll confess that I can't imagine a good time for it), as I am feeling particularly lumpy and unattractive right now. I wish he could have lingered a bit, perhaps dying slowly as I straightened the mirror little by little, so the return to my actual pudginess wouldn't have been so abrupt, but that is a level of self-delusion that even I can't get behind.

No, he's gone now, and it's because I killed him; there is no turning back. I just wish I had taken some time to say a proper goodbye to skinny me. The last time I spoke to him was right after my kettlebell workout this morning. I was dripping with sweat; I looked at him and said, "yuck - you need a shower." Is that anyway to say goodbye to such a kind and generous friend?

I'm trying to figure out how to break the news to the girls...