This Is The Mirror He Used

 

A Majestic Eagle!

Practicing late into the night, a sweating Coke* by his side, T dropped his chin close to his neck so he could scowl from beneath his eyebrows, low to high, the opposite of what M had told him to do. He found he could tuck his neck skin right into his collar under his chin. Wouldn’t Mitch be jealous! 

 

I want to look like a hawk. A beautiful golden hawk, he thought, dropping his head a skosh and admiring the gold highlights on his hair and eyebrows. 

 

WAIT!! AN EAGLE! A MAJESTIC EAGLE! T practiced looking like an eagle all night, every night until he had the frown just so, the mouth small and mean. When he had it down, he moved to the other matter.

“Just tell them six foot three, two-hundred fifteen pounds, and leave the rest to me and the Republican Congressmen,” he said.

He did like to repeat himself.

 

 

 

*Don’t ever call it “DIET!” he’d screamed at the assistant who later realized the enormity, of her mistake.