SHE SMILED FIRST
I never thought
much about
mirrors.
They were just mirrors.
Something that showed me
what I already knew
was there.
My face.
My hands.
My eyes.
Nothing mysterious
about that.
Until one morning
I smiled
and my reflection
smiled first.
It was so quick
I almost missed it
a fraction
of a second.
Nothing more.
I stared at myself.
Then smiled again.
This time
I watched carefully.
The reflection smiled
when I did.
I laughed,
because obviously
I had simply
imagined it.
The next morning
I stood in front
of the mirror,
lifted my hand.
The reflection
lifted hers.
Perfectly.
I lowered it.
She lowered hers.
I tilted my head.
She tilted hers.
Everything normal
until I stopped moving.
She didn’t.
Just for a second
she remained
exactly where
she was.
Then she blinked.
I didn’t.
I stepped backward.
She stayed.
I stepped forward.
She did too.
I stared at her.
She stared at me.
And then
she smiled.
I wasn’t smiling.
I backed away
from the mirror.
She didn’t.
She stayed there,
watching me.
I left the room.
When I came back
everything was normal.
My reflection
moved with me,
blinked with me,
breathed with me.
I almost
convinced myself
nothing had
happened.
Until I noticed
something on the mirror
a fingerprint
from the inside.
I touched the glass.
Cold.
Solid.
Impossible.
I wiped it away.
The reflection
watched me.
I wiped again.
She looked annoyed.
I stopped.
She stopped.
I whispered,
What are you?
Her lips moved,
but I heard nothing.
Then I realized
she had answered
before I asked.
I leaned closer.
She leaned closer.
And for the first time
I noticed
her eyes
weren’t looking
at me.
They were looking
past me..
at something
behind me.
I turned around.
Nothing.
When I looked back
she was gone.
Not the reflection.
Me.
The mirror
showed the room:
the walls,
the window,
the chair.
But I wasn’t there.
I moved in front
of the glass.
Nothing.
I waved my hand.
Nothing.
I stepped closer.
Nothing.
And then,
slowly,
someone stepped
into the reflection
from somewhere
behind me.
It was me.
Standing exactly
where I had been.
Except
she was already
smiling.
I looked behind me.
Nothing.
Looked back.
She was still there.
Then she raised
her hand
and placed it
against the glass.
I raised mine—
but she didn’t.
She had already
done it.
I stopped.
She stopped.
I moved.
She moved.
No.
I realized
I was moving
after her.
Not her after me.
She lowered her hand.
I lowered mine.
She turned her head.
I turned mine.
She smiled.
I smiled.
And suddenly
I understood.
The mirror
wasn’t reflecting me.
It was showing me
what to do.
I took one step
back.
She took one step
forward.
I froze.
She kept coming.
Closer.
Closer.
Until her face
filled the glass.
And she whispered:
You’ve been
following me
your whole life.
I couldn’t move.
She smiled.
Then the lights
went out.
When they came back on
I was standing
in front of the mirror,
exactly where
I had started.
Everything normal.
My reflection
was smiling.
And this time
I smiled first.