Short Story Collection

The Mirror

I linger in the doorway, gazing at my reflection in a thousand mirrors. I walk forward; my fingers trail along gilt edges. I wonder why: why was I drawn to this house, this room, this endless maze of glass walls? I go further in, making my way through the glimmering passages towards the centre. I don't know what's in there; I don't want to know yet still something is calling me forward. All around me, the walls come to an abrupt halt, a circle forming up ahead. A circle with nothing in it but shards of broken glass suspended in the air. I keep going, entranced, my hand reaching out even as I try to resist the indomitable pull. Slowly, my finger brushes the edge as darkness overcomes me and I surrender myself to unconsciousness...