Son compartido

Sometimes the mirror shows you more than your reflection… sometimes it shows you what you’ve lost. I was brushing my teeth when I saw him. My dad. Standing behind me in the mirror, just watching. He looked exactly the way he did the last morning I saw him alive — tired eyes, shoulders heavy, but still trying to smile. I spun around, but of course, the bathroom was empty. Just me. Just silence. After his death, I started seeing him everywhere. Not in the world, but in the glass.