Pep Talk | Flash Fiction

I look in the mirror and grimace. Deep bags under my eyes. Pimples on my chin. Eyebrows in dire need of a pluck.

“Gross,” I whisper to myself.

“Who the hell are you calling gross?” I say back.

It’s me, talking back to me. My reflection is moving of its own accord and it’s talking to me.

“What the hell?”

“Listen up, missy. I’ve had enough of this negativity. I’m sick to the back teeth of looking at your miserable face every day. Would it really be that difficult to smile every once in a while, huh?”

“How the hell are you doing this?”

“I dunno. Magic. Madness. Who cares? All I know is that I’ve had enough of you looking at me and telling me I’m gross, every single day.”

“But –”

“Don’t but me. I’m not that bad. Sure, I look brighter when you exfoliate every once in a while. And yes, you could do with getting a little more sleep if you want me to look less like the walking dead. And if you stopped picking at your face I’d be significantly less pimply. But all in all, I’m not that bad. Right?”

I nod. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Say it, then. ‘I am not that bad.’”

“I am… not that bad.”

“I am not that bad.”

“I am not that bad.”

“I AM NOT THAT BAD!”

“I am not that bad!”

“Yeah, alright! Good job. That’s the kind of attitude I’m looking for every time you glance in the mirror. Now give me a big, happy smile, like you mean it.”

I lift my chin and apply my widest, cheesiest grin.

“Dude, you’ve got broccoli in your teeth.”

“Oh, shit. It’s been hours since I ate. I must have been walking around like this all afternoon.”

My reflection glares at me. “Why do I even bother? Get out of my sight.”

Stories that Sing

I write one new story each week inspired by a random song from my Spotify library. This week it was “idonwannabeyouanymore” by Billie Eilish.