The Mirror of Regrets

“This mirror doesn’t show reflections… it shows regrets.” At an antique shop, there was a mirror

covered in dust. The owner said, “It doesn’t show what you are. It shows what you

lost.” I looked into it— and saw my childhood dog. Alive.

Running toward me. Then I saw my best friend, who moved away years ago.

Then my grandmother, smiling. The mirror whispered: “Step through if you want them back.”

I reached out— my hand went through the glass like water. I almost stepped inside…

until I saw myself in the reflection. But my reflection wasn’t reaching in.

It was shaking its head. Slowly. I backed away. The owner whispered: