Last call

And for the first time this year: this morning while out with Vincent an old (but then again not that old) man stopped me:

- Hey, lad, can I ask you a question?

- Umm, sure, go.

- Oh, you’re a girl!

Huh, I wish I was…still a girl I mean. I may feel 16 at heart but the mirror is impossible to trick. It tells the truth as it is and my reflection causes me each time an identity crisis for it gets harder to recognize the woman (alas! I have to use the “w” word already) staring back at me with the puzzled look of someone trying to connect a vaguely familiar face with the corresponding name.