The Golden Mirror
The mirror stood in the center of the room, unadorned and stark. It was not a piece of furniture but a boundary. A line drawn in silver and glass that separated the air on this side from the air on that side. I stood before it. My reflection stared back. It wore my face, but the eyes were different. They were older. They were tired. "You are late," said the voice. It did not come from behind...
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