A soft drizzle of rain fall down from the gray sky above, forming ever so slight puddles on the paved path I follow. As I glide on by, the shallow mirrors on the ground look back at me with my own moving reflection. Some of the reflections last longer and have great depth, while others only happen for a brief moment in time. But all will disappear. Sometimes it’s because I’m there, sometimes it’s because I am gone.
When I am there, the mirror shatters upon impact of my feet, spraying water in every direction. What was once a peaceful mirror becomes thousands of little shards flying through the air, each reflecting its own picture. One shows my stride, another shows my shirt, yet another reflects down the trail I follow. All conspire to land on me. If they do, no alarm is sounded, as getting wet is a risk of breaking mirrors.
When I am gone, the mirror slowly starts to re-form and in the end casing all movement, once again reflecting it’s surroundings.
Recovery Miles 