Forgive me if I’m boring you with all these stories. You are too kind to indulge an old broken mirror like myself. You see, I was never one for storytelling. But as I now lay broken into all these pieces, telling these stories seems to be the only way to try and put myself together again.

I was always more of a silent observer. I’ve witnessed stories that can’t be unseen — both beautiful and ugly. My reflection has been the most loyal servant to all kinds of masters and mistresses — always silent, always observing, never interfering. Always showing them the truth they wanted to see. Always showing them the lies they wanted to believe in. Through me, ghosts of ancestors have spoken to their descendants. And it was through my reflection that sane minds have gone mad.

I’ve been used as a portal to jump through time and space and imagination. It is I who trapped the infinity. I simultaneously see past, present, and the future. Of course you don’t believe me: In the following days you’ll read the story about a ray of light imprisoned in its loneliness.

But now I lay broken, split into these reflective shards. Telling these stories is the only way to put myself together again. But the stories come in little bits and pieces. Broken, I struggle to see the big picture. There is too much missing.

Besides, how can I be sure the stories I tell you reflect the truth? What if I failed to mention a key piece of information? (The River was convinced that Nara came to sit by its banks enchanted by the hypnotizing tunes of its running water. Did I mention that all that time she had her headphones on?)

The truth is, I can’t be sure what the truth really is anymore — not while I’m scattered all over the floor into so many pieces, with big fragments missing among all those sharp shards.

So forgive me if I’m boring you. Probably all you want to do is look at yourself in my reflection. I see you. I see you. But your likeness is spread out throughout many of my broken pieces. There are many of you, just as there are many of me. That’s why I’m telling you all these stories. It’s the best attempt we’ve got at making ourselves whole again.

Now I’m listening. Tell me a story.

Feature image: Majlinda Hoxha / K2.0.