You’ve been pretending this is coincidence. Stress, tricks of the light, too much coffee, not enough sleep. You stack excuses like sandbags. You pray they’ll hold.
Mirror Mirror is a 31-day audio fiction cycle running through October — one haunting voice each day, whispering from the world beyond the glass.
People pay me to make them shine. I tease, I spray, I polish until the camera loves them. But lately the mirrors love them too much.
Mirror Mirror: Day Twelve – The Officer continues the 31-day October cycle, where every surface might be watching back.
Long hauls blur you. Highway, sky, diner, repeat. My cab’s full of mirrors—rearview, side, little blind-spot bubbles. I check them without thinking. Habit. Survival.
Mirror Mirror is a 31-day audio fiction cycle running through October — one haunting voice each day, whispering from the world beyond the glass.
People pay me to make them shine. I tease, I spray, I polish until the camera loves them. But lately the mirrors love them too much.
Mirror Mirror: Day Twelve – The Officer continues the 31-day October cycle, where every surface might be watching back.
Mirror Mirror: Day Fourteen is a reminder — the reflections were never background. They’ve simply been rehearsing.
🎧 Mirror Mirror is a 31-day audio fiction cycle running through October — one haunting voice each day, whispering from the world beyond the glass.
People pay me to make them shine. I tease, I spray, I polish until the camera loves them. But lately the mirrors love them too much.
Mirror Mirror: Day Twelve – The Officer continues the 31-day October cycle, where every surface might be watching back.
