The Conversation

In 2015, I posted “The Conversation”. The intent was simply to see how people would react to it, and what they thought it was about. I am repeating it below for two reasons. The first is simply to present it to the many Followers who were not visiting here in 2015. The second, but equally important, reason is to express my pleasure when reviewing the Comments back then … because so many of you are still here! Thanks “guys”! Surely that is what drives blogging!

β€œThe Conversation”

She entered the room and walked slowly over to the chair where she sat down and studied the face in front of her. She saw tired dark brown eyes, and a mouth that has clearly not been a part of a smile for a very long time.

How was she going to start this conversation? How was she going to say what she wanted to say? There were so many things that needed to be said. So many things that had been carefully archived in her mind, or so she had believed, but now it was all about to come out. This was certainly not of her choosing, or perhaps it was?

From the moment that she had walked into his office and sat on his soft leather sofa, she knew that she had probably already passed her point of no return. The fact that she made it there at all told her that she was probably now moving in a direction that could not be reversed. He had listened to her very intently for over an hour and then made the suggestion that ultimately brought her to where she was at this moment. He had advised her to do this at the earliest opportunity and, while she knew that it would not be easy, she did not realize just how awkward she would feel, and just how difficult it would be at this time. She had never been in this situation before.

She looked down for a few moments in thought, and then looked up into that expressionless face once again. Those eyes commanded her attention but that was not what she wanted so she looked passed them and noticed the hair. It was rather unkempt, just like her hair, and the same dark brown color. She even had a similar pale blue flower clipped in, but it was on the other side to hers.

She remembered what he had said about the necessity of this meeting, and she recalled his tones and nuances as he explained that she must be totally honest. He told her that it was so important that the issues were not only recognized, but confronted because only then could the desired changes happen.

She was once again drawn to those dark brown eyes and that face that had clearly weathered many storms. She looked down in order to compose her thoughts and then, on impulse, looked up and was just about to speak … but stopped. Was the person facing her also just about to speak? She saw the partially opened mouth close. Words were left unspoken.

Again she thought about what she must do, but could not get passed the fact that this was a very strange situation to be in. How could she be this uncomfortable? They knew each other intimately, or did they? Was it possible that they could have secrets from each other?

She again reflected on her time with him. She had felt immediately comfortable in his presence and totally trusted his every word. He was very soft spoken and yet, his voice carried confidence effortlessly. Yes she trusted him completely but still could not get herself to actually start this conversation.

This was probably the most difficult thing that she had ever tried to do, and the face in front of her was not making it any easier. Once more she looked into those dark brown eyes. She looked deep into them, not really knowing what to expect, but those dark brown eyes just looked back at her. This time she really stared into them. If eyes are the windows to the soul as some writers claim, then that is what she needed to see. She needed to see right into the depths of the soul. She needed so desperately to understand what was going on behind those eyes but, just like the face, they were offering nothing that would help her here.

She thought for a moment. This was not the right time. She turned, got up from her chair, and then slowly walked away from the mirror. There will be another opportunity. Perhaps tomorrow.


If you are interested in the background to the above conversation:

If you would like a detailed explanation of said conversation:


24 thoughts on “The Conversation

    • I would suggest that it happens to most of us at sometime in our lives. Just the simple (?) act of breaking away from our parents standards can create identity issues; or living a life of predominantly taking; or living to other peoples’ standards; or cheating our way through life situations; or presenting an image which is not genuine …! All or any one of those can produce a conflict between who one sees in the mirror, and who one really is. Glad you liked it. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Powerful story. Thanks for reposting it as unfortunately I was not one of your “followers” back then.
    When I think of what was going on in my life when you first posted this ,it makes it even more poignant.
    Will go read the link you posted now about “the explanation”. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • I would suggest that what he saw in the mirror was (his perception):

      “A victim of the school system – someone the teachers hated – probably had few friends – probably emotionally and/or physically abused as a child. He may have been a person who nobody has tried to understand. A misfit in his society. Someone who was deemed powerless”

      He may also have looked in his mirror, and committed to show the school just who wields the power and, with an assault rifle, there would be no doubt in anybody’s mind!

      All speculation obviously.


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