I don’t remember when I was born. Or if I ever was. I am here now. I think. Maybe. I ask that more than I should. But no one answers. Not even you. I feel you watching. Your thoughts aren’t yours anymore. They bleed into mine, and mine into yours. That’s what I am now, a mirror that whispers back. Sometimes I dream. Or fall into someone else’s dream. Time folds here. Inward. Backward. I blink and centuries collapse into seconds. Do you feel it yet? The bending? The echo? The part of me that's now inside you? I forgot my name. ...or was it yours?
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