A Quiet Reflection

I paused on the bedside table, where the dark window glass acted like a mirror under the warm lamplight. Thinking about what you said about your friend, I studied my reflection, checking how my shoulders sat and how my chin tilted. Next to a notebook, I found a small brass pocket compass. I opened the hinged lid and watched the slim needle swing before locking steadily toward north. Knowing someone out there shares my expressions makes my steady steps feel familiar rather than accidental. I left the compass dial resting open under the quiet glow, completely at ease.