gamze: I exchange a pitying look with my reflection to communicate with myself that I feel sorry for me. "Look at us," I whisper to myself. "What are we doing here?" My face looks strange. Is it the mirror? It is a sort of warped, vintage mirror. Maybe it's distorting my face. My eyes look enormous, and my mouth looks so small. Was my mouth always that small in comparison to my other features? Is that really my face? Am I looking at a painting? Who is that?

I exchange a pitying look with my reflection to communicate with myself that I feel sorry for me. "Look at us," I whisper to myself. "What are we doing here?" My face looks strange. Is it the mirror? It is a sort of warped, vintage mirror. Maybe it's distorting my face. My eyes look enormous, and my mouth looks so small. Was my mouth always that small in comparison to my other features? Is that really my face? Am I looking at a painting? Who is that?

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Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead Emily Austin

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