The door stared right back at me. Go away. Turn right around and go away. I wouldn't listen. Couldn't afford to. Everything I wanted was in there. One plank of wood in between. And two unyielding egos. I tried staring it open. It sighed. You should know better.
The mirror squealed, once. It was only calling attention to itself. You don't trust me. I didn't. It was too old. Had seen way too much. Of me. Of the other. It hung there, quietly reproachful.
I sat down at the desk. Traced the scratches on its surface. Make me a portal. I'll make it easy. I covered it in scribbles. In noughts and crosses. It sat back, silent and indifferent.
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