The Glass Ocean's Reflection

I stand barefoot on the shifting sand, feeling a warmth that feels less like sunlight and more like memory. In my peripheral vision, I see him—the man from the city who told me to breathe—but here in this tropical clarity, he exists only as a ghost inside my own reflection.

The ocean behind me is not water, but liquid glass, reflecting a world where we never met yet everything feels healed. The rope tied at my waist anchors me to this illusion; without it, I fear I would drift into that shimmering surface and live in the perfect version of us forever.

Editor: Mirror Logic