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Weekly Contest #347
Wretched. The mirror slipped from my grasp, shattering into a hundred fragments on the floor. I didn’t notice the colors the glass casted on the tower walls, or the tiny pin-pricks of pain on my feet. Wretched. ”N-No..” the word slipped out. I stumbled back, away from the shards of glass, away from the truth. But how? It was impossible- “Lyre!” Sunday’s voice came from my left, and a second later he’s placing a steadying hand on my arm. It was only when he did so that I realized how much I’d been shaking. ”No, s-stay away from me!” I jerked ...
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