The house sat inside its twin, deformed in an unseen way until one faces a mirror. Nothing reflected is the house you are inside yet it all seems far more familiar than your present surroundings. Something on the other side calls to you and beckons you to a home you have never been to and cannot possibly reach and yet... and yet you feel as though you're already there.
Such houses are not commonplace, reality can only hold so much before it stretches too thin and the edge begin to fray. That's when the mirrors begin to shimmer like liquid platinum, dripping from their frames to form dimensional puddles that engulf those familiarly unfamiliar floors, the furniture you never felt quite right on, the carpets that muffled all noise in a distinctly unsettling way until all you are left with is a floor that will swallow you whole.
The other side isn't so bad, it feels like the home you were never able to find comfort in, feels like your first heartache and toothache and deepest satisfaction all at once. It isn't the kind of place you can leave, not that you'd ever want to. Not when you're finally there.
Not when you're finally home.
Such houses are not commonplace, reality can only hold so much before it stretches too thin and the edge begin to fray. That's when the mirrors begin to shimmer like liquid platinum, dripping from their frames to form dimensional puddles that engulf those familiarly unfamiliar floors, the furniture you never felt quite right on, the carpets that muffled all noise in a distinctly unsettling way until all you are left with is a floor that will swallow you whole.
The other side isn't so bad, it feels like the home you were never able to find comfort in, feels like your first heartache and toothache and deepest satisfaction all at once. It isn't the kind of place you can leave, not that you'd ever want to. Not when you're finally there.
Not when you're finally home.
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