My Entry For Reflection Hunters Contest Round-222

Hello everyone
The air in your studio apartment was thick with the scent of old books and lukewarm coffee. Rain lashed against the window, a constant, drumming reminder of the gloomy afternoon. Alex, you were standing in front of the full-length mirror with a tentative hand attempting to touch your image.
Looking back today, it was not just your image. Something had changed. The Alex in the mirror, who is typically a faithful, albeit a little worn-out, replica of your 28-year-old self, appeared... more optimistic. Their eyes, which are typically a subdued shade of hazel, gleamed with a brightness that was almost emerald. A subtle, perceptive grin appeared on their lips—one you had not seen on your own face in months.
You uttered "Hello," half-seriously, half-jokingly.
A soft, ethereal light radiated from them, and to your complete surprise, the reflection smiled wider. "Hello, Alex," a voice that was as clear as a bell but could only be heard in your head, echoed inside you. "You have experienced a lot, have not you?"
Your ribs pounded against your heart. I was not dreaming. This was no optical illusion. You stood back and stared. There was still the mirrored Alex, calm and bright.
"Why are you here?" Your voice was hardly more than a croak as you stammered.
The reflection said, "I am you," as the surrounding light softly pulsed. Instead, I am the aspect of you that recalls your passions, dreams, and brilliance—qualities you occasionally forget you have.
The vivid canvases you used to paint, now collecting dust in a corner; the partially completed book on your laptop, left unfinished for months; the bold trip plans you once painstakingly created, now reduced to faded printouts—a flood of memories swept through your mind. Those lights seemed to dim with the passing of time, did not they? The soul-breaking job, the never-ending bills, and the silent letdowns.
As a strange mixture of hope and fear blossomed in your chest, you asked, "But… why now?"
The reflection cocked their head, staring straight ahead. "Because you are prepared." Alex, you are at a crossroads. You can decide to remember who you really are, or you can keep going in the direction of silent resignation.
You could see it as the light around them grew brighter as they spoke—not just your reflection, but glimpses of the person you wanted to be. Alex the artist was there, his brushstrokes bold and unafraid. You saw the storyteller, Alex, talking fluently. You saw Alex the explorer, arms raised to the sky, standing atop a snow-capped peak.
The cold of the rainy afternoon was chased away by a warmth that permeated you. You knew it was not a magic trick. It was a mirror, to be sure, but it did more than just reflect your body. It was reflecting the potential that was dormant within you, the inner landscape.
With a newfound resolve and a stronger voice, you asked, "What do I do?"
The mirror image With their emerald eyes blazing brighter than ever, Alex just grinned. "Alex, you are already aware. You constantly have.
You glanced at the mirror, your dusty canvases, your laptop, and the world outside your window, which was still covered in rain but seemed less gloomy now. You knew the journey would not be simple. However, for the first time in a long time, you saw a glimpse of the previous Alex—the one who believed in the power of their own reflection and was not scared to dream.
With purpose this time, you extended your hand and pressed your palm against the cool glass. The light in the mirror pulsed again, one last encouraging flash, and then gradually dimmed. When Alex looked back, it was you again, but with a twist. There was a hidden resolve in your hazel eyes, a fresh spark. A faint, knowing smile, similar to the one in the mirror, started to form on your lips. The rain outside appeared to lessen, as though it recognised a change, a fresh start.

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