I stare at the mirror. A surface meant to reflect what it sees. But I don’t see myself, I don’t see the room around me, I don’t see the mirror.
Though I can feel the light, warm and welcoming in the air, it avoids me as I’m drawn inward, drawn within. There’s a vignette of ice, growing along the corners; there’re snowflakes drifting across the frosty glass; there’s a tangible sense of emptiness.
Wandering into the opaque shadows, they envelop me. Deeper with each step, drowning in the snow as the mirror’s emptiness consumes me.
