Micro fiction


1 minute read

“Where are you right now?”

The man with the greying moustache sits across from me at his desk. His probing eyes make me feel uncomfortable but there is a warmth to him that somehow feels familiar. I focus on his round spectacles, so dramatic they’re almost funny. About to giggle, I have to look away.

I think of Karl. Where is he? Sometimes I don’t even remember his name anymore.

“Where are you at the moment?” he insists.

I shoot him a look of disdain. Surely he knows! As I catch my reflection from across the room I don’t recognise the sad, wrinkled face staring back at me. I have lost myself, so to say.

Karl shows me the house. With a smile he says,

“We will live here.”

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