Ficlets

Liking What I See

“Old-fashioned beauty,” my aunt said.

I raise an eyebrow loftily and glance in the mirror. My face is round, my skin clear and fair with rosy cheeks. Long dark hair frames a high forehead.

“Sure,” I snort. “Pale skin and big foreheads…fashionable in the 1800’s, maybe, but sure not now.” Nowadays you have to be blond and thin to get anywhere. And I, with my dark hair and curves, am not.

“Look again,” she sighs.

I shot the girl in the mirror a dirty look. Proportionally speaking, her nose was too big for her face. She had soft-looking lips, the same hue as her cheeks. Her eyes…that’s what I liked about the reflection in the mirror. Deep, deep blue, and framed in jet-black lashes, naturally long and curving at the tips.

“You’re the mirror image of Kathy,” she whispered.

I raised my eyebrows at the girl in the mirror. She copied me. “Really?”

“Yes, honey. Your mother looked exactly like you. Didn’t you know that?”

No, I thought, I didn’t.

For the first time in my life, I was liking what I saw.

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