The Woman Who Sold Reflections

In an antique shop hidden behind a church in Prague, there’s a woman who deals in reflections. Not mirrors — reflections.

For a price, she can show you what the world truly sees when it looks at you. Businessmen, lovers, politicians — all come to her. They gaze into her black glass and gasp.

But there’s a warning carved into the counter:

“Once sold, the reflection is yours — and it will follow.”

A poet named Léo came to see her one winter. He wanted to know if he was truly as hollow as he felt. The woman smiled, her eyes like liquid mercury. She handed him a small silver shard.

When he looked into it, he saw himself — smiling, confident, whole. Hopeful again. He wept and took it home.

But the next morning, his mirror-self moved first. It blinked before he did. Then smiled wider. Then waved.

By the third night, it was gone from the glass. He found footprints leading from the mirror to his bed.

The woman in the shop closed early that day. She added one more shard to her collection — and for a moment, a reflection inside smiled back at her.