The Girl in the Mirror

The girl in the mirror is not me.

For one, she is much younger with an unlined face. Yet she smiles and gesticulates just as I do, regarding me with such warmth, I wonder if we know each other.

Abruptly she frowns, pointing behind me as if something or someone is there. I turn.

There’s nothing but the window facing the park. Outside, it is quiet and serene.

Until an asteroid slams into the ground.

The mirror shatters from the shockwave and her arms reach out to pull me through.

Embracing me, she weeps, “I saved you this time, Momma!”

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