Self/Less

Imagine a world without physical reflection. 

No reflections of people on the glass panels of downtown stores, or on the windows of the yellow cabs lined along the pavement.

On the end of each street, artists sit on stools, pencils in hand (paintbrushes if you’re from the hills). A line of people chatter as they wait their turn. Next, the portraitist would call, and the person would sit opposite them. A swish of a brush, flick of a pencil and the canvas was finished. Holding it at arm's length, the client would usually voice their reaction on the spot. Anything from ‘Jesus I only shaved my chin last week!’ to ‘ Ah, still an ugly bastard, what’d ya reckon?’ with a smile full of blackened teeth.

Books sales would dominate phone sales, in fact, even stationary sales rival that of digital devices. People take notes in the street instead of selfies, they breathe in the park, watch the birds, listen deeply to the conversations of peers. Instagram a realm for the unfiltered and untampered. For the genuine. Youtube declared bankruptcy in 2007. No, 2008. Whatever. 

People look each other in the eye, despite not seeing a reflection. Perhaps this let’s them see deeper? Who knows. It’s all hypothetical at the end of the day. 

The cities would still churn with blood like the bowels of a grey beast, the endangered animals would still starve, their flesh hanging from their frame like a rug on a carcass. Countries would still terrorise each other. People would still die. The world would still inch closer and closer to a fiercely hot/ ice cold halt. 

But we would all be closer with our inner self, and I think that means something that I can’t quite capture with a closing statement.