The Ten Thousand Doors of January

by Alix E. Harrow

I wanted to believe him, but I’d met enough empty promises in my life to know one when I heard it. I left without speaking again.

It’s a profoundly strange feeling, to stumble across someone whose desires are shaped so closely to your own, like reaching toward your reflection in a mirror and finding warm flesh under your fingertips. If you should ever be lucky enough to find that magical, fearful symmetry, I hope you’re brave enough to grab it with both hands and not let go.

There’s only one way to run away from your own story, and that’s to sneak into someone else’s.