Free Beyond the Reflection’s Edge by Bryan Davis

reflection shook its head, copying his own doubtful shake. Then again … maybe not.
    He stood and began unbuttoning a new shirt he had just tried on, walking close to the mirror as he reached the bottom button. With only a desk lamp to light the room, his slender, yet toned frame cast a long, narrow shadow across the floor. The image in the mirror mimicked his moves as he threw off his shirt and tossed it behind him, leaving him bare chested except for a small wooden cross attached to a thin leather strap that looped around his neck.
    Something bright glinted in his eyes, like a laser beam passing just below his brow. The light in the room dimmed, as if the power were sagging, making his shadow darken. He spun to the side and shook his head scornfully Like a clumsy oaf, he had draped his shirt over the lamp shade. He jerked it away and tossed it onto the trunk, allowing the lamp to flash to life.
    He turned back to the mirror. In the reflection, his shadow grew, lengthening and widening until it shrouded the entire image in a dark gray cloud. The lamp’s glow pierced the darkness and cast thin beams onto the mysterious trunk. His shirt had vanished.
    Nathan turned completely around. His shirt still lay on the trunk. The light and his shadow remained normal.
    A cold shiver sent goose bumps crawling across his skin. Slowly he turned to face the mirror again. Still cloaked in a gray fog, the trunk, the lamp, and the window were the only visible objects.
    Creeeak!
    That sound! The window! Nathan froze in place, slowly inching his head around toward the real window. Drapes still covered the glass, motionless. He edged toward them. One step.Another. With a wild swipe, he threw them open. Nothing. Just a dark, rainy night.
    A peal of thunder rumbled, sending a new shiver up Nathan’s spine. He released the drapes and stood in front of the mirror again. A hand emerged under the window’s image, pulling it up. No sharp nails this time, just a normal human hand.
    He glanced back and forth, watching the action unfold in the mirror and keeping an eye on the real window, still in full light, still undisturbed. A man in a trench coat crawled through the window image, then a woman, the man with a finger to his lips while helping the woman climb in.
    Nathan’s whole body shook. He pinched himself, but this couldn’t be a dream. Was the mirror showing a reflection of his thoughts like the museum guy had told Kelly’s father?
    The man in the mirror, unrecognizable in the shadows, skulked to the trunk and opened it. Nathan tried to peer inside, but he was too far away to see anything. The woman, also in a trench coat, tiptoed straight up to Nathan, her face becoming clear as she approached, beautiful and serene.
    Nathan gasped. “M-Mom?”
    He glanced to each side. The room was empty. The woman in the mirror leaned over his shoulder and kissed his reflection on the cheek. A hint of wetness brushed his skin. She then grasped his right hand and kissed it tenderly, finishing with a gentle blow on his knuckles as her distinctive raven tresses spilled across his wrist.
    Nathan lowered his gaze to his real hand. His mother’s lips were nowhere to be seen, yet somehow he could feel her breath, warm and gentle.
    In the mirror, a sad smile crossed her face as she slowly turned away. She joined the man in front of the trunk, and their bodies blocked his view. They each pulled something from their trench coats, bent low, and placed the objects in the trunk.They both turned, allowing a beam from the lamp to illuminate the man’s face.
    Nathan gulped. “Dad!”
    His father crawled back out the window, then helped his mother through again. With a muffled thump, the window closed.
    Nathan locked his eyes on the mirror. Only his own image, the lamp, and the trunk remained — the open trunk. He swung around. The trunk in the room was closed, his shirt still draping it. He spun back toward the mirror and took a step in reverse. His reflection stepped