Chapter 4 · free to read
Three days since the mirror first showed me a stranger's face. I had sent the dead home. But the small bronze one kept a door I couldn't find the frame of.
It matched her exactly, and then it did not, and the not was always at the end of the movement.
Fog to the ankle at the threshold, on a morning with no fog anywhere else on the hill.
It did not sink. The water was not a bottom. It was another mirror.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.