What’s in a reflection?

Hello, again literary lovelies,

We find ourselves yet again on a Writing Prompt Wednesday. This prompt caught my eye as I am not usually a horror genre writer, although my prompts usually are dark and twisty.


The reflective film rippled as I threw myself backward, my elbows scraped against the narrow stone corridor.

I wanted to look back up, but my eyes appeared to have cut all communications with my body. I sat there till I could feel the cold leech into me.

It was the soft tinkling sound which finally enticed my gaze back to the polished metal. My breath hung in my lungs as though by a rope. 

I finally turned to the image which should have mimicked me and fallen away but remained poised against the silvery surface. Her nails, longer than my own and black-tipped, tap tapped against the glass. 

I blinked as those nimble fingers began to beckon me closer. My body rose as if no longer controlled by the real me and I was pulled forward. 

My feet halted when my nose was inches away from the cool polished metal. I felt the breath drain from my body as the reflection which no longer matched my own, reached out from behind the looking-glass and lightly grazed my cheek. 


Dearest readers, I feel like something is lacking with this prompt and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Do you have any suggestions for me? Is it too short? Can you tell I struggled with all the ways to describe a mirror? Help!

I look forward to any comments or critiques below. I wish you all the best day!


Honestly Austen

Postscript: I feel like I need to challenge myself to make a writing prompt with a more sunny disposition. What say you?


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