57 words: Pieces

Thin cracks like a spiderweb spread across the mirror. She had been looking at herself in parts for so long, she wondered if she could picture herself whole. A ripple of recognition flashed across each piece of sad flesh. One chunk at a time, they lit up: a nose, half of a red mouth, one watering eye.

 

I keep missing days. I have been dealing with a lot of loss in my life recently. The days have passed by in waves and I feel myself losing track. I feel worse if I don’t write, though, and I know that. Sometimes it’s just easier. But I want to keep motivated. And believe me when I say that I am trying very hard to. 

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