I shaved my hair. In a deft pirate manner, she tied a black scarf. I drew bright lips, large and too red. Among my daughter's trash I found round glasses with gold frames. The glass was radically pink. She winked at her reflection. The stranger from the mirror replied: “Didn’t recognize you? “I’m coming,” she grinned. - Ida. I’m back.” There was an event in my past life that I painfully erased from my memory, but it demanded retribution. I tried to suppress it, muffle it, reject it. As a result, it crushed me, the old me. Ida suddenly appeared in her place...