E Hen Gallery Today

The gallery accepted it. And in return, it let me hang my own work: a mirror with no reflection, labeled simply:

“What do you think?” I asked.

Outside, the storm had passed. The street was wet, ordinary. I looked back at the door. It was now a blank wall, the brass knocker gone, the lantern dead. I touched my palm. The cut had healed into a faint scar shaped like a lowercase e . e hen gallery