Sunlight flares across the glass as her face stares out, eyes wreathed in wrinkles and slitted slightly, thin mouth drawn down in pain or bitterness or maybe disappointment.
Blue sky reflects in the faded pupils and silvery hair whispers like fairy floss above the pink scalp.  Pale blotchy skin creases and pleats itself over the bone structure.
She lifts a veined, liver spotted hand, knotty with arthritis, to her lips.
I study the outline of her face, looking for the young girl with long, glossy brown hair I remember. She of the thrown back throat, ready laugh and warm smile.
The passionate one - forgiving quickly because she loved much and was loved in return.
She's survived her husband by many lonely years.  
Ah, wait! - there's the dimple hidden in the folded skin.  
Time stands still as we search each other's eyes, looking for a connection until I notice a tear sliding down along her nose.
I turn away from the mirror.