Microfiction Day 62 – “The Dancing Shadows”

Erin Mackay’s mother once told her that she had a face that carried shadows.

As a child she had imagined her face filled like a basket with the ones that she had accumulated over the day, jostling each other as they danced across her cheekbones.

She would stare in the mirror, twisting her face to catch the light and giggling as the shadows flitted across her pale skin.

But one day, she tired of them all. At twenty she plucked them from her face one by one, placing them in a jar until finally she was blinded by her reflection.