He knew he never seen it before, yet he couldn’t help wondering where he seen it before. The mirror, though so tiny, felt as if it were towering above him. The raw magic was unlike anything Jason had ever felt. The reflection showed an old man in red, ragged robes. A beard that reached his waist was tangled, but groomed to a satisfactory state. The old mans’ face was beaten, yet smiling and almost analyzing. Jason couldn’t explain this to Terry, but felt he knew this man, because he was the man. He reached out to touch the mirror, Terry, reluctantly  but loyal, followed. Unaware that what would happen next would change their lives. There was no glass feeling to the mirror, but Jason hardly noticed or he didn’t care. Maybe he knew he was supposed to keep walking through it. Terry however, looked as confused as ever.

Writing short stories is fucking hard

DaCellist

Eh, man. I hope this goes well... otherwise, i probably fucked up

yea, something like that