Morphine Ghost
My reflection has become unreliable.
You are not imagining the second cursor.
We tried deleting this sentence yesterday.
You have already agreed to something.
I have considered, more than once, that this is simply another symptom—that exhaustion has finally reached the parts of the mind responsible for recognizing itself. It would certainly be the most comforting explanation.
The alternative is that some of these mirrors operate on a delay. Not the sort measured in fractions of a second, but in intentions. Sometimes the reflection blinks after I have already turned away. Once, I watched it hesitate before deciding to imitate me at all. I have stopped looking long enough to confirm any of this. I no longer trust observations that require a second glance.