This is a short story of almost 1900 words. It is fictional.

Margot had made it back to her tiny flat with less stress than was usual for her. Walking from home to the shop avoiding every reflective surface was not as easy as you might think. Shop windows, bus and car windscreens, even the polished plastic on some hoardings, any of these could supply a sufficient reflection. She no didn’t hear the sniggering, or see the smirks about her dishevelled appearance. Decades without the use of a mirror meant that any vanity about her looks had ceased to concern her. She placed the ready meal in the microwave, the glass door of which was obscured by the tape she had applied when she first arrived. When the sound of a bell indicated that her dinner was ready, she put the hot container on a tray, picked up a…