The Wistful Mirror
The glass is cracked. It has been cracked for three days. You notice it every time you look at your hands, or the floor, or the empty air where the reflection should be. You are an inspector. You deal in facts. In measurements. In the precise angle of a fracture line. Yet here, in the heart of this industrial town, the mirror does not obey the laws of physics. It is not broken by impact. It is...
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