I Slipped

Windows.

Mirrors.

Reflections.

These are the only things tying me to my reality.

I don't quite remember how I got here. The memory is like sand that sifts through my fingertips. Within my reach but beyond my grasp.

All I know is I have a dull ache in my head which might account for some of the amnesia.

If I'm being quite honest the "how I got here" isn't the only thing missing from my mind. I don't quite remember who I am or where I came from. But I know it's not here.

Here is off.

Here is wrong.

It's colder, a little bit darker, a little bit duller, and a whole lot emptier.

Here I am alone.

Sure, there are trees, houses, streets and everything else you'd expect. But there is no other soul in sight.

And I should know.

I've looked.

Looked for hours. Or maybe days? Years? Or has it only been minutes? I have no sense of time here.

Empty.

Empty but not quite.

Because I have found one peculiarity.

Windows.

Mirrors.

Reflections.

When I look into these things I see the world as it should be.

It's warmer, lighter, a little bit clearer and a whole lot less empty.

There, in that world is where I should be. It's where I belong. But I don't know how to get back. I've pounded on the glass, screamed through the window, but no one hears. I can only see my world indirectly never without something between us.

I must have fallen through a crack, Slipped between the two realities. And now I am stuck. And all I can do is watch! All I can do is watch.

My world, my home is right there!

Like sand sifting through my fingers

Within my reach

But always beyond by grasp.