After Life. Fiction by Swara Shukla
Splash more water. Feels tepid. Check if the tap is in the right direction. Yes. Cold.
‘Dead.’ Keep your eyes shut this time. Maybe it’s better to ease your reflection into it. ‘She’s dead.’
Open your eyes a few inches, squint up at the mirror. You can’t see the face. Good. Keep it just like this. Blurred, out of focus. Should be easier without the eye contact.
‘She’s dead. Gone forever. She’s never coming back.’
Turn the tap a little bit to make ...