What lay beyond the glass
I found the mirror in the bedroom amongst your belongings. I was about to throw it away when something about the crack in its surface made me look closer. Beyond the rainbow-prism ran a line of deeper darkness: a fissure with faint flames flickering. Two eyes stared out, questioning me.
It was hopeless from the start but I'd stayed the distance as our love soured, poisoned by jealousies, mistrust, and all the screaming rows. All those tearful reconciliations grew steadily scarcer, until you stormed out that final evening and picked the wrong neighbourhood. It was only after the funeral that I discovered what you’d endured before I knew you; all that abuse, all the violence. I wished you’d told me. You’d never had a chance really; neither of us had. It took me a year to bring myself to sort through your possessions, even then still fighting back the tears.
A bargain’s a bargain. As soon as I saw the keeper’s eyes in the old mirror, I knew what to do. I’m looking up now, catching a last glimpse of you standing bemused in our bedroom. Then the crack closes, the rainbow fades and I sink back into the darkness.