One never really knows what faces in a mirror. What thoughts may go through the alternate mind of this other self behind that frail frontier of glass separating our reality from theirs? Does it even have a mind of its own? What insane suggestions would they whisper into our ear, if they were given a voice of their own? What could these hands do in a three dimensional space? Would they paint a sheep or murder the first living being they see? Do not misunderstand how vast the crawling space between realities is. Each mirror is but a window outside of our world, each moving silhouette is but a reflection of the entities that live there, shaped in our semblance to lure us towards them.
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