Dahlia

My reflection blinks after I do.

I know how it sounds. I know how I sound. Sleep-deprived. Grieving. Unstable and possibly developing wolf Schizophrenia. But I swear that I saw it. The other Dahlioa lagged behind me. Like the glass was a buffering website that just wouldn’t load. 

It’s probably nothing. I didn’t sleep well. Again. I also spent the whole night pretending the words Not Safe weren’t echoing in my ears like a song I had forgotten how to ...