pine · 1946 · half-landing, west stair
small, square, plain. the frame is pine, planed by an uncle of the family in the postwar year when wood was easier to come by than labour; the joints are simple, the corners just adequate. it hangs on a single nail above the half-landing of the west stair, where one pauses without thinking between the two flights.
it reflects the stained-glass window opposite and, in the lower half, the banister rail. anyone looking into it sees themselves with light behind their head and a polished length of wood under their chin. children, between the flights, have looked into it and discovered themselves briefly crowned.
the last person to look into it each day is the one carrying a tray down to the kitchen. they glance up, by reflex, and the glance does not register; only the tray's careful descent registers, and the careful turn at the half-landing.
field-note a landing mirror is unceremonious. it is a mirror for the in-between moment, not for the moment itself.