Seth Brickler

The Human and The Broken Mirror

There's a human in a white space. A big blank white space, with nothing in it, but the human and an enormous broken mirror. The mirror, whether perfect or broken, takes up the entirety of the floor - it's that big. All of the human's time is spent putting the mirror back together. There are nearly infinite pieces, and the human, a friend, won't stop until all of the pieces are together, as they were before the mirror shattered. After some unmeasured time has passed, the friend steps back to look at it, not finding it to be how it was before. The friend starts again. The friend pulls pieces out of their hands, knees and feet throughout the reassembling of the mirror. Every piece must return to where it was before the mirror broke. The friend has neglected everything except what matters - putting the mirror back together. The mirror is put together. The friend stares. They find it wrong. The friend starts again. Piece after piece more time passes. Move pieces around. Step back and look. It's wrong. Try again. Nothing else matters. Wrong. Again. No. That's wrong... Try again... Wrong... Again. No... Start over... Wrong... Start again... No... Wrong... Again...