Pat Anthony

Leaving the Wedding Mirror

She moved in the darkness, loaded the Chevy Nova by the double gates and rolled in neutral onto Oak Street. Used the locals to bring the wedding chest of drawers, polished cherry, doors with smoothed wooden knobs that opened onto the smell of mothballs and the quilt from his cousin, the Mormon genealogist, that she kept out of sight, believing the both of them tainted with past secrets better left to unknown heredity. No amount of arguing moved her to bring the matching mirror, mounted in the blue room where the dresser had stood.

behind silvered glass
mirrored images
too many to hold