brass · 1923 · upstairs wash-stand
a small swivelling mirror on a brass stand, kept on the wash-stand in the second upstairs room. one side plain, one side magnifying. the magnifying side is the one used; the plain side faces the wall most days. the brass at the pivot has been polished, by use alone, to a high warm shine.
it reflects a part of a face larger than the face — a pore, the grain of a chin, a single grey hair in unwelcome detail. it does not lie. nothing it shows could be argued with. it has watched the same man become an older man, and the older man become someone else's father, without ever flattering any of the stages.
the last person to look into it each day is, more often than not, not the same person who looks into it in the morning. a daughter, home for the weekend, picks it up to find a single eyelash. she sets it down, plain side out.
field-note a magnifying mirror is unflinching. it is also patient. it does not need you to like what you see; it only needs you to keep coming back to it.