The Door of Unmade Choices: Chapter 21
Chapter 21 — The Mirror Conversation
A mirror appeared from out of nowhere. Tall and old, it was the
kind of mirror that doesn’t flatter and doesn’t apologize. The edges were
nicked, silver backing peeling in places like it had been through things and
didn’t see the point in hiding it. Frank stopped short.
“That wasn’t in here before,” he said.
“Neither was honesty,” Alternate Frank replied.
“The cryptic messaging is so damn annoying.” Frank turned. “You
do it. Now my alternate doppelganger is doing it. So damn annoying.”
The room had changed. The unfinished painting still leaned
on its easel, but its colors bled outward now, seeping into the walls. The
guitar hummed softly without being touched. The manuscript pages fluttered
though there was no wind. Everything in the room seemed restless. Waiting to be
acknowledged.
Frank faced the mirror. He saw himself but not as he was. He
saw the moment before every almost-decision. The breath held. The email
never sent. The audition never scheduled. The sentence stopped mid-thought
because finishing it might have meant something.
Alternate Frank stepped beside him, not reflected at first
as if he were a vampire. Then, he appeared in the glass.
“You keep saying you failed,” Alternate Frank said. His
voice was calm, but not comforting, which somehow made it worse. “But that’s
not true.”
Frank shook his head. “I didn’t become anything.”
“You didn’t try long enough to become anything,”
Alternate Frank said. “That’s different.”
Frank’s jaw tightened. “I was being realistic.”
Alternate Frank smiled, thin and tired. “You were being safe.”
The mirror flickered. Hairline cracks spread from the
corners, creeping toward the center.
“You didn’t fail,” Alternate Frank said again, louder now.
“You froze.”
The word hit harder than failure ever had. Failure
implied effort. Freezing meant standing still while your life walked past you headed
toward something better.
“I was afraid,” Frank whispered.
“I know,” Alternate Frank said. “So was I. The difference is
I moved anyway. It wasn’t always pretty. But I found out fear goes away when
you don’t give into it. It’s like standing up to a bully.”
The reflection warped. The cracks continued their slow progress
across the mirror’s surface. Frank’s face aged, then smoothed, then split into
overlapping versions—each one paused at a different crossroads.
“You think courage looks like confidence,” Alternate Frank
continued. “It doesn’t. It looks like showing up even though you’re shaking.”
The mirror fractured; the sound of it echoing around the
room. The walls splintered into panels, each one reflecting a moment Frank had
stood on the edge of action and chosen stillness instead. Dozens of doors
appeared inside the reflections. Some glowing, some dim, some already sealed.
Frank staggered back. “Make it stop.”
Alternate Frank placed a hand on the glass. It trembled.
“This is the stop,” he said. “This is the moment you tell
the truth instead of the story you’ve been telling yourself.”
The fractures slowed. The room held its breath.
Frank studied at his reflection.
“I didn’t fail,” he said.
The mirror stilled.
“I froze,” he whispered.
The cracks stopped multiplying. Frank’s words didn’t fix
anything. But they unlocked something.
*****
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