Quick Fiction: The Double


He was standing there lost in front all of those mirrors that surrounded him in this small space of two square meters. The mirrors were set up in a way where each reflection of him in one is reflected again in the other, forming an endless reflections of the same image, the same person, the same him.

He looked closer, trying to identify each image, each reflection. They all looked back at him, with the same body gesture, the same movement, but in different angles allowed by the tilt of each mirror. In the back of his head, he had a favorite, and that was him at the end, the smallest furthest reflection of them all.

Not sure why, maybe the size made him the cutest, or maybe the distance made him the least imposed, or most lost?

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