The Stranger watched me through the window, her masks hanging on the wall behind her. Some were satin, some were steel, some were silk and some were leather. Each day she chose a new mask.

We were in love, the Stranger and I, but she never showed me what was behind that mask. In all fairness, she never saw my face, either.

It wasn’t that we were lying to each other; there are just some secrets you tell. Many I never told her.

She was the Stranger, but she never saw the Stranger in myself.