Echo Was Beautiful, No One Knows Why

Jackie Andrea Winslow || Fall 2024

Narcissus never really loved Echo, to be truthful.
He loved walking by the harbor in deadstock denim
And sickly white name-brand shoes with no creases or pomodoro sauce spots
In the summertime when it gets crowded
And everyone could potentially be an audience member.
He loved saying out-of-pocket lines at overpriced cafés uptown
Just to be a shock to any poor sonofabitch who would bother to listen
And be that person’s interesting story of the week.
Narcissus loved to live in people’s heads,
And Echo was just another one of those lover girls
Who always seemed to love the wrong people
For the wrong reasons
In the wrong lifetimes.
He loved going to the forest at sunset
Knowing she’d been waiting all day just to see him.
He loved opening doors for her
So that the strangers on the street would think of him as charming
And chivalrous.
He loved to get drunk on date night
And make the older couples at the restaurant stare
As Echo blushed and ripped apart a piece of bread
Without eating it until it was all shredded.
He loved to hear Echo say she loved him,
So he said it to her first
And watched his reflection in the glint in her eye
When she repeated his words back to him.
If Echo had loved herself one thousandth as much as Narcissus,
Not too much, just a serving size,
Maybe the gods would have given her the power of her voice back.