The silence of the mirror
The steam was still fogging up the tiles when I saw it. It wasn't the first time we shared the dark hallway, but it was the first time that guilt outweighed sleep. My sister, Elena, was sleeping soundly in the next room, oblivious to the fact that the balance of her world had been broken just a few hours ago. He was there, in front of the sink, with his gaze lost and his toothbrush in his mouth, as if he were trying to erase with mint the taste of a betrayal that neither of us planned, but that we both allowed. I looked at him through the reflection. His eyes, framed by that messy silver hair, searched mine with a mix of regret and an urgency that burned my skin. "It can't happen again," I whispered, barely a breath in the humid air. He didn't respond immediately. He rinsed himself slowly, resting his hands on the marble, his shoulders tense under his black T-shirt. He knew that Elena loved him, or at least loved the idea of stability that he represented
About The silence of the mirror
The steam was still fogging up the tiles when I saw it. It wasn't the first time we shared the dark hallway, but it was the first time that guilt outweighed sleep. My sister, Elena, was sleeping soundly in the next room, oblivious to the fact that the balance of her world had been broken just a few hours ago. He was there, in front of the sink,...Read more