In the funhouse mirror room, reality sways like a waking dream. Your likeness, twisted; arms lengthened into tendrils grasping at phantoms that skitter in the periphery. A ghostly apparition stares back from the silvered glass, eyes wide with the madness of knowing.
Distance lies, deceiving every footstep into a vaulting leap over horizons of bewildering enchantment. Whispered echoes of forgotten laughter tramp through the air, pulsing with nostalgia and rue, imprisonment in nostalgic embraces.
Every reflection births a phantom doorway, multiplying into shades of possibility. A world tangled in strings of fate, shadows chase hemlines, flesh twines into familiar strangeness.
Off in the corner, glimmers dance like nervous jesters, hinting at escape, each ripple of light a teasing wink in the infinite hall.
Another Dimension Wave of Reflections