Glenn Ashton

Mirror Mass

She had the humor of an angel with a crooked halo with a face like the rock the halo had been broken on. She stood by me in everything and would defend me to a fault. We would stand side by side in the reflection of restaurant windows, and while passerby stared at her face in rude curiosity, I would silently mock them, knowing what her true flaw was: the flat expanse of midriff that she modestly hid behind her shirt.