The Mask Shop

There was a shop in a quiet town that sold masks.
They weren’t costume masks.
They looked like real faces.
People came from everywhere to buy them.

A man walked in one day.
He didn’t know who he was supposed to be.
So he tried on mask after mask.

Some made him speak louder.
Some made him quieter.
Some made him walk differently.

He picked one that felt comfortable enough.
He wore it every day.
People treated him well.
They liked the mask.

Years passed.

One morning, he woke up and the mask had grown tight.
His skin stung.
He tried to remove it.
It didn’t come off.

He went back to the shop.
The shopkeeper looked at him for a long time.

“That one was never meant to be worn forever,” the shopkeeper said.

The man asked what to do now.

The shopkeeper handed him a bowl of warm water and a cloth.

“Sit by the window,” he said.
“Stay there.
Soften it.
Take your time.”

The man sat.
He didn’t rush.
He didn’t pull.
He just waited.

Slowly, the mask loosened.

He placed it on the table.

He didn’t try on another.

He walked home with his own face.
He didn’t know exactly what it looked like.
But he hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time.