I do not know this man. I do not know this man in the mirror. The one staring right back at me, moving his eyes to reflect wherever I look. He does every single thing I do. Makes every single face, pokes back at fingers aimed against the glass, and turns his back when I turn mine. To the untrained eye, it looks as any normal reflection does; behaves as any mirror is designed to do. There is nothing obviously out of the ordinary that would arouse suspicions otherwise. But as of a few restless nights ago, my rationality has flipped completely on its head. I cannot explain what changed in the span of those 24 hours. The mirror looks…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

I do not know this man. I do not know this man in the mirror. The one staring right back at me, moving his eyes to reflect wherever I look. He does every single thing I do. Makes every single face, pokes back at fingers aimed against the glass, and turns his back when I turn mine. To the untrained eye, it looks as any normal reflection does; behaves as any mirror is designed to do. There is nothing obviously out of the ordinary that would arouse suspicions otherwise. But as of a few restless nights ago, my rationality has flipped completely on its head. I cannot explain what changed in the span of those 24 hours. The mirror looks…

It’s almost seven. Zoya leans back in her chair, stretching her arms with heavy sighs after a fifteen-page essay. It’s due tomorrow, so there’s still time for edits – but she’s been staring at her screen too long. She peeks out her bedroom window to the right. The last creeping bands of pink and orange sun grow dim across the barren treetops of the forest nearby, bleeding into the horizon beyond her corner of the suburb. The autumn air is cool and fresh, the wind is tame and her work is done for the day. She’s looking forward to her daily run. Kicking off the chair, putting her PC to sleep and slipping into freshly-laundered workout clothes and a thin…

I do not know this man. I do not know this man in the mirror. The one staring right back at me, moving his eyes to reflect wherever I look. He does every single thing I do. Makes every single face, pokes back at fingers aimed against the glass, and turns his back when I turn mine. To the untrained eye, it looks as any normal reflection does; behaves as any mirror is designed to do. There is nothing obviously out of the ordinary that would arouse suspicions otherwise. But as of a few restless nights ago, my rationality has flipped completely on its head. I cannot explain what changed in the span of those 24 hours. The mirror looks…