I keep it in a bag, my face. It hides there of a night when I slumber and dream.
I pull my hair back and look at the bare-faced lie reflected back at me in the mirror. A blank canvas. I could do anything with it. I could be anyone.
But I want to be me. I’ve always wanted to be me, not her.
The ritual begins.
Very pleased to hear about T R Shaw's new horror e-zine for women writers 'A Darker Spirit'. It's a brilliant initiative, and I wish her every success with it.
Hope to submit some pieces myself!