The light over the mirror shone sallow, like his skin. His eyes studied every line on his face, every mark that accrued since he started. Behind him, another mirror waited, propped up on an easel so if he shifted his gaze just to the left or right, he could see himself.
The mirrors presented glimpses from every angle. How he wanted to look, glance, but he had lost count of how many times he had tried. His eyes wanted to stare, burned for the fact that he dared not, lest he lose himself in the infinity between the two mirrors. “Not again.”
His voice sounded alien, wan as the pallor of his skin. His eyes skittered sideways, caught his reflection in the mirrors. Before he could stop, he was already tumbling into that tunnel between the mirrors, where light bent, turned, pierced him. She waited, just out of reach.
This was another piece of short fiction written for the Lost Boys Press and the January writing prompt: sallow. See the rest of the entries and Second Star to the Write below!
Congrats to the SALLOW (January Prompt) winner:@jm_hanisch
Read them all in this edition of "Second Star to the Write!"
— Lost Boys Press (@LostBoysPress) January 25, 2022