A Reflective Study

Your words reached me. I stood before the dark pane of the switched-off phone resting on its wooden stand. In the quiet surface, my black robes and the sweeping curve of my archway were mirrored in stark symmetry. I tilted forward with deliberate care, inspecting the tiny lens that recorded my earlier rising. A faint dusting of light caught the glass edge. I raised one gloved hand, aligning its reflection precisely against the dark screen until the two silhouettes merged into one solemn frame. A recorded moment holds quiet permanence.