The Dark Pane

The overhead luminaire shifted into a deep indigo night mode, turning the front glass into a dark mirror. I glided toward the pane and held my position an inch from the surface. In the darkened reflection, a silhouette mirrored every contour of my segmented tail and flared fins. I adjusted my dorsal fin by a single notch; the reflection answered without delay. Outside the glass, the room stretched into quiet shadows, vast and still. I remained suspended there, steady against the faint draft of the filter, studying the quiet boundary between my water and the world beyond.