There's a stranger through the glass.
The kid looks at you through the panes, an untainted, childish glee in her eyes when she spots you. She laughs and the noise is muted by the invisible barrier between you.
You watch as the girl turns on her heel and runs towards the doors of the classroom in the background, blonde hair flying behind her.
The bell has rung, you think.
Judging by the way groups of children, similarly dressed in matching shorts and polos gather in a line to wait for the teacher. The girl is at the back and you observe as she stands not attempting to engage with the others, but watching.
Through the glass you see an elderly lady make her way down the path and stop in front of the children, she opens the door and ushers them inside.
The stranger is the last one to make her way through and as she does she turns to look in your direction, you feel a match of familiarity spark, before she turns and continues.
The door slams shut.
And the scene goes dark.
YOU ARE READING
The Looking Glass
Short Story- "You open your eyes to a mirror this time. There are more mirrors adorning the walls and, craning your head back, more on the ceiling. For a moment you think the kid is there, staring you in the eyes. But you move. And the boy in the mirror foll...
