Sanskrit

Evelyn seldom graces the mirror with her presence these days, but when she does she prefers to do so without the aid of the progressive lenses which have become essential in bringing the finer details of her world into focus.

It’s not so much the sacred Sanskrit of age which has etched itself ever so cunningly across the canvas of her once immaculately youthful reflection that keeps her away, but rather the inexplicable absence- of even the nuance of smoke- which once rose from her in sharp. hot. breaths. that now causes her to wish to remain, invisible….

Written for Friday Fictioneers.

34 thoughts on “Sanskrit

  1. You tell this story exceptionally well. Like Neil, I love “the sacred Sanskrit of age” – that is a gorgeous description. And I like your very brave second paragraph, all in one sentence of – how many? – 60? – words. Brave – and effective.
    Kudos!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. All of us who are older know how she feels. I also love the sacred Sanskrit of age. The other day I looked at a picture of my SO and saw an old man. In person I perceive him as he always was. For those we love, it’s the same person. But for those who don’t know us… we’re just an old woman or man whose fire is slowly guttering out.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It is difficult. And I wonder if it is our society that worships youth that makes it harder, or if it is just human.. Well human as in humans that live 100 years as opposed to the 50or 60 years they used to before we began worshiping youth…

      Liked by 1 person

      • I think this youth worship doesn’t help at all! As we do live way longer than before, I.like to think this attitude will change. Wishful thinking?

        Like

  3. There’s a lot to think about in this piece and in the comments. For a moment I thought maybe she was a ghost, when you mentioned the absence of smoke (breathing). But Gah’s comment is perceptive. The other day I was picking my husband up from an appointment, and he’d started walking in the direction from which he knew I would approach. When this strange, somewhat elderly gentleman unexpectedly stepped off the pavement to wave me down in a place where I hadn’t expected to see my husband … A good story, one I shall mull over.

    Liked by 1 person

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