What if your reflection started moving before you did?
Flash Fiction Prompt:
The woman in the mirror blinked first.
Clara froze, her toothbrush halfway to her mouth. For a moment, she thought fatigue was playing tricks—but then her reflection tilted its head, smiling just slightly. Not her smile. A stranger’s.
The bathroom light flickered. Clara stepped back, heart pounding. The reflection didn’t. Instead, it raised a hand and pressed its palm against the glass. The gesture seemed gentle—almost pleading. Then words formed on the mirror’s surface, written in the fog her breath hadn’t made: “Let me out.”
Clara shook her head, whispering, “This isn’t real.” But the reflection’s smile widened, patient, knowing.
The light flickered again, and this time, when it came back on, the mirror was empty. No reflection. Just Clara standing alone—except she wasn’t sure anymore which side of the glass she was on.
Question for Readers:
If your reflection started acting on its own, what do you think it would try to tell you?