Reflective Space

Reflective Space

Jul 27, 2016, 5:19:47 AM Creative

When Briana walks, her hair quietly ruffles around, making itself aware in the world even though her firm gaze says otherwise. Her gait is strong and her mind is set on where she wants to go, but her lost fingers only find security along the hem of her skirt. To her left, she spies a businesswoman making an exchange with her employer through her sleek phone while ordering herself a latté. The businesswoman’s black pantsuit and red lipstick makes her subtly stand out and she didn’t have to utter a word and she would still be the center of attention. Briana’s mind drifted back to the grimy sidewalk and for a brief moment, she pretended she was the businesswoman, poised and chic. She stumbles over the curb and her dreams shatter. A jogger breezes by her and she catches a whiff of her deodorant. A fresh mango paradise appears before her and she looks up and watches the jogger dodge traffic. The jogger’s bright orange workout tank top shimmies down the street and her florescent pink Nike sneakers pound their way into the city’s sidewalks. Briana remembers when she used to run, but stopped when work just got too busy. She really missed the flow of the wind against her face and the strength she felt after running. For a brief instance, she pictured herself as the runner. Her usually loose hair would be tied up in a sleek ponytail and she would be donned with the best running gear. She would simply breeze through everything effortlessly and still manage to carry a smile. Briana caught herself apologizing to a pedestrian as she nearly walked into him because of her dreams. “I’ve got to stop doing this.” she quietly muttered to herself. She buzzed herself into her apartment and kicked off her heels. The old couch groaned under her weight as she flopped onto it and she sighed. “I can’t really help it though. My life is so mundane.” She continued, pausing afterwards to let the walls absorb her words. There was really nothing she could do about it. She’s tried diets and ended up sitting on her kitchen floor, sobbing with empty containers by her side. She lets herself eat whatever she wants because she would rather preserve her happiness instead. She tried running and cycle class and even a yoga class, but she would always retire to her favorite shows where she can happily clutch her stuffed rabbit and smile with tears brimming her eyes. She likes to tell herself that the tears are from the rom coms she loves to watch. She’s tried dating apps and gets a jolt in her stomach when she actually gets an arrangement to go on a date. Out of all nine restaurants she’s been to and the twelve men she’s met, all of them ask too many questions. She tells herself that she really cherishes silence, so at the end of the date after he’s paid for the food, she would politely smile and lie saying that she’ll see him next week. She’s back with her chips and salsa and The Office. “This is just where I belong.” she says as she brushes the crumbs off and heads towards the bathroom. Her mirror is covered with landscapes of mountains from the west coast to lakes so clear that it defeats glass. She found that every time she looked at the mirror, her well appreciated smile would shrink and cast too many shadows onto her face. She told herself that mountains are lovelier so she would rather look at something that would make her smile. She finishes and stares at her hands as she starts to wash them, the suds forming small colonies as they plummet into the drain. She peers up at a small section of the mirror she’s left for only her face and checks to see if any shadows have appeared on her face. She finds herself holding her head high just like the businesswoman she saw earlier. She holds up her right hand to her ear and pretends to make deals. Her brow furiously furrowed in concentration as she desperately tries to seal the deal. With her left hand, she peels back a mountain so she could see her hand better. She closes her imaginary phone and peeks at herself. She didn’t like how she looked, too stern, too serious and found it mundane. She pulls back her hair as tight as it goes and quickly changes into a tank top. She poses in a running stance and tosses some water onto her face. Puffing hard, she pretends to have just finished first on a race and waves to the crowd, throwing kisses and catching roses. With her right hand, she peels off a couple more mountains and lakes, placing them gently by her lipsticks. For the next hour, instead of finishing up the fourth season of The Office, she takes on many roles. She found herself posing as a teacher she admired to a co-worker she watched from a distance because of her wardrobe. Mountains and lakes started piling up by her lipsticks until Briana found herself looking at herself head on. She stood still. Her clothes lay on the floor, having caught a glimpse of herself in between her roles. With her left hand, she gently pats her nose she long despised for it’s length and traced it down the length of her face. With her right hand, she caresses her stomach, feeling every smooth and rough surface. Looking up again she whispers, “In this reflective space, I hereby declare myself, Briana as the queen of the lakes and mountains. Hell yes! I am just as beautiful as the mountains and lakes themselves.” Her voice rose and with a single thought; she decides to send a final one barreling around her apartment. “In fact, I am Briana Mcnair and I’m pretty fucking awesome and beautiful!” 

Published by Alice C

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