Looking Glass

Horror of a dystopian future

Life is a mirror with many faces, but all you see is yours. Everyone fears the face in the mirror distorted into a million pixels or melting into a vat of creamy fleshy ooze.

Better yet, the demon behind you or the ghost that haunts your home. It clasps its hands over your narrow neck, ripping, digging into the soft parts until — pop goes your esophagus.

The eyes you wish to see gazing back at you are your own. In a world where people hang mirrors from their hats or launch them on selfie sticks, I think you would like it.

Speaking to yourself at the grocery store at check out. Crossing the street with only the slight reflection of the mirror lover behind you. No more family dinners, raves, no more parties, no more first dates, just you and yourself.

Of course, there are those who hate their image. The rebel clan that seeks to smash every mirror to bits. You wouldn’t worry about that. No one would. Because no one can look past their mirror.

Eventually, even the demons and ghosts give up. They popped throats for decades, and now no one notices. The streets are gooey with sinew, stinking with rot and decay. It is amazing what people can withstand when obsessed with their own beauty.

Go ahead and stand in the magic mirror; ask it the question which matters most.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the best, the worst, the evil, the good, the disdain, the horror, the problem — you are.