Mirror

There is a strange game where you can look through a copper mirror at an image of yourself from the past. and you can ask him what you would change about your life. This game was bought by the Mosca in a store of carnivorous plants and ventriloquist's dummies. Nobody wanted to play it, except me.

I looked at that reflection, which returned a very strange image of me that I didn't remember, and I asked him questions, thinking if it would help me find a meaning in the middle of the warm night of the soul. Superstitions, flowers.  He told me to ask about white roses arriving in the daytime; there I could tell better how fresh the arrivals were. I did not understand him, and he told me, very simply, it is only one way that everyone travels: exile and communication. What is your way?

And I kept thinking in a badly drawn circle that got lost. I only felt then that the mirror's answer; maybe it had to do with saying more about what I feel. even if that was not to the liking of many. I keep thinking about those answers.