Shaving Mirror

by Brad Rose

The end was always at hand, only today, more so. When she finally walked out, he discovered that everything remained the same, nothing changed. Confounded, he waited for a breakthrough, or a breakdown. Neither came. Just the bills piling up, week after week, like layers of earth shoveled into the open grave of someone he almost recognized. That morning, when he cut himself shaving, only the mirror bled.


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