After handling everything, Lorenzo let out a long sigh, washed the tools clean, and put them away. He accidentally saw the hazy mirror, a light mist clinging to it, a blurred figure within the fog, staring back at him in the cramped space.
Suddenly, a strange feeling surged up, and as Lorenzo moved slowly, the figure beyond the mist shifted slightly as well. Lorenzo found it difficult to describe this eerie feeling. Then, as if compelled, he raised his hand, and the person in the mist extended a hand toward him too. Their hands crept closer and abruptly stopped the moment they reached the mirror surface.
It felt like an error in perception; the mirror was incredibly cold. Then, from Lorenzo's touch, the droplets condensed on his fingertips gathered together, cascading down like a curtain of water, dispersing the mist on the mirror.
Beyond the mist was a familiar face, eyes weary, with a ghostly pallor, as if soaked for a long time in the icy sea.
