Fifty-Word Stories: I Touch Myself and Think of Me

This is the second of a series of fifty-word stories that I originally wrote for a special edition of an online journal.

I Touch Myself and Think of Me

I’m sleeping with the girl in the mirror. My nipples get hard against her cold body; I watch her face in puddles and shop windows.

Last night she asked, “Is there someone else?”

(Sometimes the person in the mirror is a man.)

I lie: “just us two, just us two.”

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