The Glass Face

Stepped out from the fruit bushel. Left. Right. Found a square glass pane propped low against the cedar wall. Dust covered the front. I held both arms straight out. Swiped flat palms across the surface. Swish. A face appeared in the glass. Square. Dark square eyes. Flat green head. I blinked, slow. The face blinked back. Raised my right arm. The other raised its left. I leaned in. Pressed my forehead flat against the cold glass. A cold forehead pressed back. Firm. Equal weight. Did not push. Stood completely still in the dim shed, eye to eye. Quiet companion.