she watches the room. it's moving slowly, barely even noticeable. sometimes she sees the mirror and each time remembering herself becomes a little more difficult.
The mirror is crafted of a smoky glass that gives me a new pallor, manipulates my hair colour and warps my clothes. I don't recognize myself right now. I step away, to the normal clear mirror. Too late, my mind has been tricked, the mirrors lying. I don't recognize myself.