Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Four Hundred and Sixteen

The cruelty of the mirror all but broke her heart. In its blue depths the raised scars cross her face shone like red and purple lightning bolts. She put up a shaking hand and touched her ridged cheek. The nurse made to take the mirror away, but she grasped the handle.

“Leave it,” she snapped. “I have to get use to it. Now go away there’s a good girl.”

The nurse fled.

Her personal physician ran into the room with his white coat flying behind him.

She smiled her twisted smile.

“It’s okay Bastian. I’m just reflecting on my reflection.”

©️jane jago

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