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The Shelf There is a shelf in the front room that Johnny has always admired. It holds a number of objects that his parents have collected: spoons, bells, pins, everything Wizard of Oz. On the shelf there also sits a girl - a doll or puppet. She has blonde hair and blue eyes though to Johnny the color is not important. The girl wears a bright purple dress, signifying her royalty, and her hair is done up in a braid. Johnny has seen the girl for as long as he can remember, though he only takes the time to truly look at her when they are alone. She has seen Johnny grow up and progress towards manhood. Johnny now sits on the sofa and looks at her. It is just the two of them, no one else is in the house. He sees a bit of himself in her: that lovely braid, the dress. He sees himself in the memories reflected through her eyes. Mostly, he sees himself in the way she sits. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t strive for happiness. She sits through life and watches others pass her by and speaks only when others care to speak to her. She is a hidden girl, avoiding the pains of rejection. Johnny stands up and pulls the girl from the shelf. He knows what she is telling him and he understands that it has taken far too long for him to listen. For years she had been setting an example. She had been imploring him to tell. She wanted him to have his best chance at life. He hadn’t listened. He had sat as she had sat and had listened and watched as she had watched and listened. He had averted his obedient eyes except on the rare occasions he felt safe to feel his longing. No more,he thought, and he took the girl into his room. Olivia would be her name and she was ready to quit sitting. She was ready to leave the shelf. 10
Reflection There’s an echo staring back at me and I feel that I am frozen, continually affirming that I am me. I hear no voices now, save for my own, and for once it seems less strained by the society surrounding. I see Anubis. Once brazenly emblazoned on my skin. “That’s not exactly me,” I say, the emblem of the lost child seeking safety in facsimile of a man he longed to be. I see the scar upon my knee: an austere augury of my past as the sprightly, sporty child hiding in stereotypes with the peers deemed proper by his family. I am led to wonder: had I been me then would my knee still eternally possess that spectral, moon-shaped omen? After reflections on my past I see the echo calling back with auspicious gestures towards the future. I see the hair -- so slowly sinking down. I see the clothes -- so slightly changing form. I see the eyes -- so swiftly looking up. I see myself -- so surely being born. 11
Page 2 and 3: Contents: 1 -This Is You 4 - Ide
Page 4 and 5: and strongly he had taken Brian dow
Page 6 and 7: Identity A young boy addressing a p
Page 8 and 9: Obedient Eyes The mirror peers at m
Page 10 and 11: The Masked Actress of Great Britain
Page 14 and 15: e:Birth Eyes closed. Past forgotten
Page 16 and 17: Shattered Masks and Phoenix Fire Sc
Page 18 and 19: Through the Looking Glass A young g
Page 20 and 21: From The Mirror I always knew. Refl
Page 22 and 23: Search for Self The Early Days I us
Page 24: Best Chances Ashes of masks lie upo

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