Agnes studied her reflection
in the bedroom mirror while applying anti-aging cream to
her face. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”
“What?” asked
Charles, her husband of fifty years. He sat up in bed and
squinted in her direction. “Can’t hear you without my glasses.” He
chuckled at a joke he had made throughout most of their marriage.
“My reflection
in the mirror, Charles. Can you see it?”
“Still as beautiful
as ever.” Charles closed his eyes and rolled to his side,
secure in the belief that after half a century, he had learned
to say the right thing.
Agnes continued
staring intently at her reflection. What she saw shocked
and delighted her. Glaring back was a girl, late teens, brushing
her long, thick black hair.
“Oh, my God!” the
girl in the mirror screamed. “What happened to my hair? It
turned white. And my face is all wrinkled.”
“Don’t fret,
dear. White hair cut short is all the rage.”
“Who are you?
What are you doing in my mirror? You look like my grandma.”
“Now, now,
Aggie. They still call you Aggie, don’t they? No need to
get nasty.”
“How do you
know my name?”
“Because I’m
who you will become in fifty-two years, dear.”
“Ahhhh,” Aggie
screamed. “It can’t be.”
“Calm down.
I recognize you…me. That brush you’re using on your lovely
hair. Your best friend, Paula, just gave it to you for your
eighteenth birthday.”
“You mean this
is what I’ll look like someday?”
“Compose yourself,
dear. It’s not so bad. I’m considered a rather handsome woman
for my age.”
“Handsome?
I’m called cute.” Blushing, she added, “My boyfriend thinks
I’m sexy.”
“You have a
lot to learn, sweetheart. And, by the way, your boyfriend.
Chuck? That’s him sleeping. Can you see him, dear?”
“Ahhhh,” Aggie
screamed again.
Agnes smiled.
She turned to Charles and then back to the mirror. “You could
do a lot worse, believe me.”
“But that man
is bald. And, and…”
“And you’ll
learn to love his bald head as he’ll learn to love your changes.”
Unconsciously,
Aggie’s hands cupped her small, firm breasts. “I don’t know
what to do now? How can I be happy with my life knowing my
future?”
Agnes wiped
away a tear as her own familiar reflection returned. She
put down her anti-aging cream and sighed.
“Huh? What?” Charles
sat up.
“Nothing, dear.
Go back to sleep. I was just talking to myself.”
