No Words Necessary – Līgo Haībun Challenge

The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Ye Pirate and Ese.

This week we can choose one of two word prompts, either Mirror or Faery, and I have chosen Mirror.

Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there… I will visit each and every one as soon as I can!

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– No Words Necessary –

The mirror is my wicked step-mother, blasting ice-cold shards of criticism at my cowering reflection, hurling epithets that corkscrew their way into my ears, even though my back is turned, even though I am long gone.

The mirror is my Nemesis, my arch-enemy, my downfall. It knows when I am at my weakest. It knows when I need to look immaculate. It knows when I have the least time to attend to faults highlighted by the unforgiving light like emergency flares.

The mirror magnifies every little thing, every imperfection, all of my worst fears.

The mirror is no friend of mine.

manifesting faults
amplifying blemishes
abuse needs no words
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Past Participle – Līgo Haibun Challenge

The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Penny, Ye Pirate and Nightlake – why not take a trip to their blogs to find out more?

This week I was honoured and surprised to receive a special mention for my writing in September – thank you to all of the hosts for this – I am blessed!

This week’s two alternative prompts are:

Fascination

or

Torture

I have chosen Fascination – I hope you enjoy it.

Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting any of the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there… I will visit each and every one as soon as I can!

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– Past Participle –

Every day, the girl inspects herself in the mirror. Sometimes in the morning’s cold daylight, harsh on her soft skin, sometimes at night, when the mood lighting deepens the shadows under her eyes.

She cannot help herself. It is an addiction of sorts, this searching for signs of similarity and difference, familiarity and individuality.

Are those hazel eyes, flecked with amber and green, hers alone or a memory of her history? Does the way that she tilts her head, noting all her faults and inconsistencies, mimic the mannerism of some long-forgotten ancestor? Somewhere in her past did a work-worn girl wonder at her own, ethereal, river-bound reflection as she stole a moment’s rest from her careworn day?

pause and ponder
search for your history
always be yourself


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