The Wistful Show
The dream was not of the future, but of the mirror. In the dream, the glass surface was not reflective. It was a pool of black oil, viscous and still, and when Elias pressed his hand against it, his fingers did not stop at the surface. They sank. The water accepted him without resistance, pulling him under with a gentle, terrifying suction. He looked at his reflection, or what should have been...
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