metastophalies

 The silver surface of the mirror glowed dimly, the light obscuring my reflection until there was no longer an image, only a cold, luminous glimmer that hurt my eyes. Then suddenly, the mirror flashed my eyes with a blinding white light, and focused on a new image. One that wasn’t my reflection any longer. I leaned in closer, until my nose was almost touching the surface. The image was of a man running through a dense forest. His lope was feline, not human, and he had a slight limp in his right leg. After a few seconds, he fell forward, crying out in agony as he hit the ground. The cry was strangled and heartwrenching, and it echoed in