The reflection in the mirror

When I look in the mirror the reflection I see is not me, but a mere image of my sister Julie staring back at me.

Julie is sitting at an oversized desk in her teachers’ chair. She is the teacher and this is her classroom. She is speaking calmly to one student explaining that one plus one does not equal three, while trying to show another student that two minus one does equal one. There is a third student standing looking dumfounded. Julie is helping three different students with math problems, while listening to a fourth explain how his cat died. She tells little Billy how sorry she is about his cat. Her voice is soft and kind but you can hear pain in it from time to time. She is a teacher that relishes watching the minds of children grow.

From a distance Julie looks like she’s on cloud nine. But up close she looks grave. She begins to stand, and you can tell by the way she is slowly moving she is in pain. She has bones like a frail old lady. But she manages to stand then tells her students “that its time for a story”. The students all gather their mats and join Julie on the floor. She has three different books on her lap, she tells her students “Today I brought three books and I want you to pick the one you want to hear. The first book is the three little bears, and the second is Sam I am, the third one is the three little pigs.” The students unanimously shout “The Three Little Pigs.” So Julie opens the book and begins to read. I watch and I listen while looking at the image staring at me.
She has medium length burnet hair with a ting of red from a dye used long ago. She has sincere sky blue eyes. Her face is pale, as she smiles appreciatively at the children. She’s dressed in a blue flowery blouse with a hippie fluffy skirt, and because she’s always chilled to the bone, she prefers to wear long underwear under her long fluffy skirt. On her hands she wears some rings; her fingernails are unpainted and clipped to a point Resembling sharp clause on a cat. Her hands are soft, but her hands are cold.
(A cold hand means a warm heart).

She catches me looking at her and greets me with a smile. She motions for me to take a seat and I do quietly. Julie continues the story elaborating on the “AND HE HUFFED AND HE PUFFED” the kids where getting very excited. The children are all asleep when she finishes the story. Julie struggles to stand and whispers to me, “They won’t sleep long.” When I leave she gives me a tight hug.

You see the sister in the mirror is a mere reflection of me. She is my twin and I see her always looking at me in the mirror.