The Distant Ghost
The mirror was cracked down the center, a jagged white line running from the top left corner to the bottom right, splitting the reflection of Elias’s face into two distinct halves. He stared at it, holding the frame with both hands, his knuckles white against the tarnished brass. "Is it just me," he said to the empty room, "or does it look different when you’re not looking directly at it?" No...
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