by Elizabeth Siedt
You hate mirrors.
You use them, sure, begrudgingly checking your hair and doing your makeup and smiling into them after you’ve finished brushing your teeth. But you’ve never liked them, how they throw back at you a world you take for granted is your own. Antique mirrors in particular unsettle you, like silent mercurial ancestors, hanging on your wall and looking right into your eyes. The worst are the oval ones, with the thin, gold frames. They look like enormous keyholes to a darker world.