Sylvia stepped out of the cafe seat and stared into the mirror, noticing a woman who resembled her, yet appeared much older and sadder.
Sylvia used to turn heads: men and women lusted after her body but no more. Now she feels inconsequential, invisible.
The mirror is a truth teller. It didn't disguise the melancholic eyes or the wrinkles framing them. She dyed her hair but traces of grey were showing like weeds in a once beautiful garden.
"You look as though you've seen a ghost," stated a young woman.
"No, just glanced inside my soul," Sylvia mournfully replied.
Sylvia used to turn heads: men and women lusted after her body but no more. Now she feels inconsequential, invisible.
The mirror is a truth teller. It didn't disguise the melancholic eyes or the wrinkles framing them. She dyed her hair but traces of grey were showing like weeds in a once beautiful garden.
"You look as though you've seen a ghost," stated a young woman.
"No, just glanced inside my soul," Sylvia mournfully replied.
