Have you ever whispered your name in the shadows, hoping anything that listened might respond with something more than silence? No? Okay, maybe it's just me. But even these thoughts start weaving together strange melodies, like a soft symphony hidden in the echoes of an old mirror.
Your reflection may not always be an honest one. Sometimes, it morphs into something undefined—a hint of both tomorrow and yesterday, whispering through the glass.
If the mirror spoke, would it confess to knowing more about you than you dare to accept? Or would it remain an indifferent companion to your secrets? These questions linger as quiet ghosts.