Hello, Stranger

Have you ever looked in the mirror and seen someone you no longer recognize? Only one day passed. Yesterday, clarity. Today, a stranger gazes back. Squinting restores nothing. The image changed. But it’s not an image; it’s a reflection. Maybe, I changed. But when?

The dripping from the rust-stained faucet echoes in my ear. The handle is turned to off, yet the water continues to seep through. I have done what I can to contain the leak. I have tried tools I did not previously know how to use. I have employed experts to find the solution. I cut the source off. No luck. Drip, drip, drip. No matter how hard I try — drip, drip, drip.

The slow erosion can not be stopped. Eventually, you peer into the glass and see a new landscape. A flood causes alarm, bringing with it catastrophic damage, but rebuild is possible. When the sculpting river flows, permanent abrasion. Hello, stranger. Who are you?