Reflection

My father usually stays away for days at a time locking himself away in his own world where he could create art out of the mirrors he took forever to make. But what happened to the little bits of leftover mirror that he couldn't use anymore? Well he gave those to me where I would keep them neatly stored in my special cabinet where I had started something of my own. A mirror that I was making out of tiny bits that everyone thought couldn't be used anymore. Then one day as I open the cabinet with one last piece to finish my puzzle I take the finished masterpiece down to my weary father. But once I make it down to a tear covered mother and a glass covered floor I realize that finishing my father's work was not as important as I had thought when I see it shatter before lifeless eyes.