Dear Me
If you knew what was going on today… of course you’ll know, I’m just writing to you. Forgive me, but enthusiasm knows no bounds today. Do you know who I talked to? With the one without the mirror .. Yes, yes, he himself…
I was trying my best to mirror a teardrop so that I didn’t even hear it until I felt some chills … Ice, Me? In the month of July? I knew then that it was Him, but all the words I gathered on the shelves of the glass library were frozen. I would have liked to ask hime so many things. I would have liked to ask him how to act in order not to be mirrors. You know, I thought that way I could talk to you and not just write to you. But I had no words. Instead, because I turned suddenly, you realize, the sun mirrored me so hard that I almost blinded him. Poor him… He didn’t leave, he even hugged me. How hard it must have been for him to feel the ice of the mirror.
He left me a letter, or rather a piece of paper that read just that: “The only way you can win the game is not to play!”. I wonder what he meant since I don’t know of any game.
Do you? It’s like you once wrote to me about some games in the world of mirrors, but was that what it meant? I keep thinking about it but it’s like it came with the note also a starless night… a Game
Is it a Game?
Write me about the Game Me, maybe we’ll figure out how not to play…
I hug you,
Me
a letter by Monica Măgureanu
