I spend a lot of time looking into mirrors. I’m trying to see past the edge of what’s visible. Trying to see round the corners to where the things that aren’t shown hide themselves. So far I’ve had no luck, no visions or revelations. Only the image of my reflection, my mirrorself mocking my every action.

I put my hand against the mirror and try to push through but fail as I have every time before. It’s not the glass that stops me. It’s the fingers of my mirrorself pushing against mine. It doesn’t matter how hard I push. He pushes back with equal force. I try letting go suddenly to trick him, make him fall forward. He’s too smart and too quick. He knows my every move before I make it. Maybe before I even think it. I’ve tried throwing things through the mirror. Screwed up balls of paper, beer cans, cups, shoes, pets. He always throws an identical object at the same time to intercept mine. Usually they just bounce off each other and fall back to the floor. Occasionally the mirror can’t handle the stress of being caught between two colliding objects. It shatters and distorts the view of the other side until I can find a replacement.

I stand before the mirror and watch my mirrorself. He watches back, a quiet frown furrowing his forehead. I lean forward and look into his eyes. Deep, dark brown and soulful. I think he’s trying to communicate but I can’t understand what he’s trying to say. His message is lost in the passage between worlds.

I wonder what he does when I leave the room. Leave the mirror. While I’m sleeping in my bed is he dancing in the moonlight? While I’m walking the streets or queuing in supermarket aisles is he riding wild stallions through the spray of a sapphire blue sea? When I return to the mirror is he pulled from the arms of loved ones and shaped into a reflection of my mundane life?

I wonder if he’s the real one and I the reflection. I’m forced to copy his every move, mirror his every gesture. I feel independent but maybe it’s all an illusion. Maybe I only exist when he looks into the mirror and calls me into being.

I wonder…does he feel the same way?