he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. it’s done with an elegance
All in Short story
Dear Sarah
“She’s in one of her moods again,” I say. I stare at the dark wood panels that cover the ceiling and blow out a puff of smoke. You let out a little cough.
Looking Back
I don’t know who looks at me when I gaze into the mirror. Try as I might, I don’t know who it is. I don’t even know who I’m supposed to see…
The Blanket
…and it is therefore not only myself that I saw when looking in the mirror. Who were all these other people?