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Reflection, a MIRROR story by @seenitheardit1

Reposted from here. I avoid my reflection now. It’s amazing how hard it was to break the habit. You don’t realise how much you look at yourself until something makes you want to stop. At first, I forced myself to keep looking – to stare for a full five minutes at a time, directly at

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Tube Chat, a MIRROR story by @MrMoth

Reposted from here. The person opposite looks nervous. It’s not a ram-packed Tube carriage, but there are plenty of people here. That should mean it’s safe, but no. I am wearing a “Tube Chat?” badge, and in so doing have become the physical manifestation of urban ennui. Talk to me, stranger. Chat. Come out of

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Hotel Reflections, a MIRROR story by @NinaBellini

Reposted from here. There’s an unmoving lump in the bed. Under a tumble of covers. A shock of curls at its top, dark against the white bedding. Calm. Peaceful. Despite the bed’s chaos and disarray. An arm slides out across the bed. As if it’s smoothing a sheet, but feels the empty space then retreats

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Bubbles, a MIRROR story by @noodleBubble

Reposted from here. A child full of Autumn sun, not peturbed by the gathering storm, makes them with giggle tinged breath and an urgently dipped stick. Gliding magical mirrored globes. Float towards a fuscous sky. They rise. Drift. Reflecting a violet wing over a chalk hill. Remains of an impromptu picnic. A hand held, just a

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