The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 05:00:54 -

The dream was made of glass and rain. It smelled of wet iron and ozone. Elias stood at the edge of a precipice that should not have existed in the flatlands of Ohio, looking down into a chasm filled with fog so thick it looked like solid wool. In the center of the void hung a single pane of mirror, suspended by nothing but the air’s refusal to let it fall. It was perfect. It was unblemished. It...

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