Echoes of the parallel

IV. Vintage Mirror

I took a deep breath, gathering all of my thoughts before sharing my writing ideas and progress with Thanakrit. I began to speak, and while I was talking, I noticed the genuine interest in Thanakrit even though he was just a shadow from a wall, a silent encouragement that spurred on. I described to him how my encounters with him had inspired new depths in my writing, how the magic of our connection had infused my words with a newfound vibrancy.

Thanakrit listened intently to me, seeing him nodding in understanding as I painted a vivid picture of my creative journey. The warmth in Thanakrit's gaze reflected a shared passion for storytelling, a bond that transcended the boundaries between us in this wall.

Later that night, as I switched on the lights in my apartment because I fell asleep, I instinctively searched for Thanakrit's shadow, but it was nowhere to be found. "Tha... Thanakrit?" I whisper. A pang of loss gripped my heart, the absence of the familiar presence leaving me feeling adrift in the silence.

I continue searching and calling his name. "Thanakrit? Where are you?" I said again and again. I felt a hot liquid in my eyeballs, and a few moments later the liquid began to fall into my eyes. I can't take it anymore. Am I awake now? Is Thanakrit only an imagination?



Driven by a strange impulse, I opened the door to the old corridor in my apartment, drawn to the vintage mirror that stood there. As I gazed into its captivating beauty, I noticed that I didn't have a reflection. "Am I dead? Or there's a problem with this mirror? or maybe....ahhh...Do I already have a mental disorder? Questions that coming from my head. I pick up the mirror and put it in the center of my room. It perfectly looks good this thing here. Then suddenly, a figure emerged, a boy with an ethereal aura; his body was only covered with a towel, and his biceps and abs were captivating. When I look at his face, he has a very charming smile with beautiful almond eyes.

Startled, both I and That boy in the mirror exchanged startled glances, our voices mingling in a chorus of surprise.

"Who are you?" The boy from the mirror asked, and he covered his body with his arms.

"I'm Niran, how about you? Who are you? Is that you magnifico? Ahh, yes, from snow white? Am I right?" I respond while my hand is covering my eyes, though I can still see him, haha.

"Magnifico? Snow white? What's that?"

"From a Disney movie. A magic mirror."

The boy from the mirror laughs. "You didn't recognize me?" He asked. Slowly, I realized it was Thanakrit and that the mirror had become a portal between tour worlds, a window that allowed us to observe each other from a distance.

"How come you are in my mirror, Kiran? I thought you were just a shadow." Thanakrit said.

"You are also in my room's old mirror."

Despite the invisible barrier that separated us, Thanakrit and I found solace in this newfound connection. We shared smiles and laughter, Our silent conversations bridging the divide between us. I poured out my thoughts on writing, while Thanakrit shared his insights and perspectives.

As the night unfolded, Thanakrit asked me to watch a movie. "What is that again? Movie? Can we try that one Niran? I want to see what is magnifico and snow white." His attractive voice tingled in my ears. "Ahh, movie, it's not what because they are characters," I respond. Watching a movie together was a simple gesture that sparked a sense of camaraderie between me and Thanakrit. His gaze lingered on my face with a hint of recognition like he was so curious like a kid, a flicker of familiarity something deep within him.

In the quiet intimacy of the mirrored world, Niran and Thanakrit discovered a bond that transcended physical boundaries. Through shared moments and unspoken understanding, they found a sense of belonging in each other's presence, a friendship that bloomed against the backdrop of two different universes.