Desiree Dul Guide

By Friday, she was unrecognizable. She dyed her hair indigo. She quit her job via a single, misspelled email: “i’m done being Dul.” She went to a bar where the music was too loud and let a stranger buy her a drink. When he asked her name, she didn’t say Desirée. She said, “Dee.”

The reflection pointed at her, then at the world beyond the window: the city lights, the distant thrum of a late-night train, a couple arguing on the sidewalk below. desiree dul

The last thing she saw was her own true self, shrinking into the black glass, becoming the reflection. The mirror didn’t clatter this time. It simply closed, like a door. By Friday, she was unrecognizable

“You wanted to be seen,” the reflection said, with Desirée’s voice but no tremor. “Now I’ll be seen for you.” When he asked her name, she didn’t say Desirée

She put the mirror in her bag.

“Give it back,” Dee whispered.