I spent a while looking out the window at the city’s dark buildings, the yards, and the streets, empty except for the occasional newlooking car. I paced the room. I noticed there were two mirrors. One at one end and the other by the door, and they didn’t reflect each other. But if you stood in a certain place, you could see one mirror in the other. What you couldn’t see was me. Strange, I said to myself, and for a while, as sleep began to overtake me, I made calculations and experimented with positions. That was where I was when five o’clock struck. The more I studied the mirrors, the more
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Liz Norton’s mirror comes back
