I start again with “…who is the fairest…” and the mirror says “O God not that ‘fairest’ crap again, you egotistical bitch!” But I persist with “of them all,” and the mirror says “all what?”
I know it’s just being intentionally dense here; it knows exactly what “all” means: all those things I’m more beautiful than.
The face in the mirror wrinkles as the mirror-glass contracts, buckles. “See?” the mirror says, “this is you in ten years. You are much fairer than that. For now.” <END>
Buy it at amazon.com/author/terencekuch: Pictures of the Invisible, a fiction sampler.