The Mirror

She looks at herself in the clean mirror.

Is she clean? Maybe her hair, her ankles. Perhaps her body is well washed.

The bathroom is her sanctuary. Not because she likes to see herself there. Well, because you… have to.

It is so quiet there, and they give her time.

So she comes to herself with a deep sigh and sees the deposit on the mirror, which soon disappears, as if the mirror wants to be ready for the sacred moment: the wailing.