Hand Mirror

I met this girl one sunny afternoon while walking on the sidestreet.

She said she thinks she’s lost.

I offered her directions but she said she doesn’t know where to go.

I told her she’s in trouble, and her face brightened up.

She confessed that she is indeed in trouble.

She said she’s lost in life.

I smiled.

Could she be a nutbag?

I looked at her from head to toe.

Her shoulder-length black hair was a bit disheveled. She’s wearing a black shirt and a pair of faded jeans. One of the laces of her mismatched shoes went loose.

I returned my gaze at her face.

She was now smiling.

She asked me if I read.

I told her yes.

She said she loves reading.

Then she started telling her story.

She said she doesn’t have a lot of friends and is often alone. She’s crazy with full moon.

I kidded her she’s a wolf.

She said she’d prefer to be a vampire.

She confessed to me that she feels being in trance whenever it’s full moon.

I laughed and she joined in.

I asked her what else she likes.

She said the clouds.

I asked her what kind of clouds.

She said cumulus clouds.

I told her she should ride the airplane to enjoy a good view.

She pouted and said that she likes it more looking up at the clouds rather than looking down.

I said she couldn’t be a bird then.

She said she’d wanted to be a bird just like her favorite book characters.

I knew the book so I told her a real bird and not like the mutant kids who are half-man, half-avian.

She said either way, as long as she’d have wings.

So I asked her, what about angel.

She giggled. Not like Mercy, she said.

Definitely not like Mercy, I repeated as she once again referred to one of our shared favorite books.