The Distant Joke
In the dream, Elias saw the mirror not as a glass, but as a door that had been left ajar for a century. He stood before it, his reflection wearing a coat that did not fit, the fabric too large, the buttons missing, the hem dragging in a pool of shadow that was not quite darkness but something heavier, something with a texture like wet wool. He reached out to touch the surface, and his hand...
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