by S.O. Green
The mirror is cracked and the cracks are spreading.
It started when I scratched the symbol on the glass. The one from the book. The one I couldn’t get out of my head.
In every line, I see a nightmare. In every facet, I see a dream. In the centre is a keyhole. Beyond, another world.
It whispers to me in my sleep. It calls to me while I work. I taste its colours and hear its darkness and feel its gentle music on my skin.
My reward is coming.
The cracks are spreading. Now they’re spreading across the walls.