✒️ 5-Minute Writing Prompt:

While cleaning out an old attic, you find a dusty, forgotten mirror. When you wipe away the grime, your reflection doesn’t move with you—it smiles when you haven’t, blinks when your eyes are still. Then, it raises a hand and points behind you.

The Mirror

I turn my head quickly to see what my reflection is pointing at. Nothing. The space behind me is empty. Only the old, rotted wood of my grandmother’s attic wall.

I look back at my reflection in the mirror, shocked and horrified to find that I am holding an old mirror with its glass missing.

The floorboard creaks behind me and a dark shadow crawls along the floor. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as a chilling breath makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

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