“Look in the mirror,” said the psychiatrist.
The man studied his reflection. A smile blossomed on his face. “Very nice bone structure, a gift from my mother. My father gave me the eyes. They are my secret. The right eye is darker than the left. With that I see the world. With the left I see the world watching me.”
The psychiatrist asked, “What does the world see when it looks at you?”
The man chuckled. “A sweeper of the streets. But when I tell them Iʼm the son of an African King, I see them wishing that they were me.”
FLASH FICTION 101 JUNE 2020 SHORTLISTED ENTRY
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