What is this portal to the other side? Can she see me too? Does she know I am real? Of course I am real, I am here. Is she also real, or merely photons of light bouncing from me to the glass, and like bees into their hive, through my pupils into my eye? Does she realize that everything in his world is backwards; can't he tell that his right is my left? Does that make my right his wrong? Stop mimicking me! Or do I mimic her?.
Will one of us please stop this law-abiding game of monkey-see monkey-do and copycat! I try to let her know to move her arm in the opposite direction, so we can break this inevitable chain of events, but instead of listening to me, she just tells me to do the same.
"Don't tell me what to do." I calmly say. "I am real, you are just a reflection on the wall.".
Her mouth just repeats what I say. Isn't it funny how when you speak in the bathroom, you can hear a slight echo? This is not acoustics, my friend, but the sound waves coming from that brute behind the mirror trying to speak to you. Unfortunately, sound does not travel through the device as well as light; atoms are larger than photons, you know.
Then, a notion. What if I could touch her? If she felt me, she would know that I was not just a reflection in the mirror. I raise my hand to the mirror, as does she (for we think alike), and ever so slowly, I touch with the tips of my fingers. Her fingers are cold like ice. Atoms move slowly through membranes, you know. The membrane doesn't flex, because we are both applying exactly the same amount of pressure. I push harder, and so does she. Can't she tell that we are doing the same? Why won't she ease up so I can push through the membrane?.
"Can't you do differently than I?" I yell.
Echoes.
"Why don't you break the pattern? Why do you have to do everything exactly as I?".
Again, she imitates my speech.
"Don't you tell me what to do!" I am now screaming at the full capacity my lungs will allow.
