‘Mirror Images’
— Joyce Chong
Living in my aunt’s house was like living in a bubble outside time. My friends changed into different people each time I talked to them, gaining jobs and families and interests; it wasn’t long before they changed into acquaintances, and it wasn’t long after that we stopped talking entirely.
This week, a wonderful short story by Eleanor Pearson on loss and recollection, time and reminiscence. ‘Mirror Images’, published in Syntax & Salt, is an ode to the past, to the ways we fit ourselves around grief and try to shape the world to our pain.
There was a fine layer of glass everywhere in the house, like frost. I took to wearing shoes inside the house.
The story is sprinkled with a hint of the surreal, the indiscernible, and told in a voice that is almost reminiscent of memoir, drawing you further into the realities of these characters. A mirror becomes another sort of item to be collected, representative of something greater altogether. It’s no surprise that reflect is a verb with dual intentions, multiple meanings.
The reflected rooms looked slightly different. The upholstery was fuller, the pictures on the walls more vibrant. Things that had become cracked were whole.