Gorgon

I shaved my hair. In a skillful pirate manner, I tied a black scarf. I painted my lips bright, large, and too red. Among my daughter's junk, I found round glasses in a golden frame. The lenses were radically pink. I winked at my reflection. The stranger in the mirror replied: "Didn’t recognize me? It’s Ida," she smirked. "Ida. I’ve returned."

In my past life, there was an event that I painfully tried to erase from memory, but it demanded retribution. I tried to suppress it, silence it, reject it. As a result, it crushed me, the former me. In her place, suddenly, Ida emerged…