I looked at my reflection in the toaster and caught myself looking lonelier than I felt five minutes before

Dear Delyara, There’s something strange about seeing yourself accidentally. Not in the proper mirror where you are ready to adjust, soften, correct, present. In the metal, the dark glass, the microwave door, the car mirror, the shop window — the places that catch you mid-function and tell the truth before you have time to improve it. I was waiting for toast and looked down and saw my face in the toaster. Flat around the mouth. Tired in the eyes. A woman who had already given too much of herself away that day and was still moving as if she had reserves left somewhere. That tiny reflection stayed with me. Maybe because it felt honest. Maybe because I knew no one else would notice unless I said it out loud.