The man looked into the mirror. He had bought it less than two hours ago—a simple full-length, thankfully free of scratches and smudges. Childishly he raised his right hand. The person in the mirror raised his left. The man studied his reflection warily. Mirrors were not to be trusted. They never reflected him as others saw him, but in some impossible perspective that only existed in mirrors.
Uncomfortable with looking at the person who wasn’t really him, the man broke eye contact, glancing up to check his hair instead. As always, not a black strand was out of place, not even in the unruly thatch that fell slightly over his left eye. A glance down reaffirmed his professional image—the clean-shaven jaw, the impeccable clothes. He worked hard to impress his superiors, hoping one day they’d realize that this young new engineer was ready to move on to bigger and better things.
But they never did. He was just another comfortable worker, hard-working but not outstanding. His minimal office socializing almost seemed to detract from his upright appearance rather than bolster it. No one ever paid him any attention, not even when he scrambled to meet their horrible deadlines. The man darted a frustrated look into the mirror. In fact, just yester—wait. The man jerked back to face the mirror. It couldn’t be…
The man in the mirror, the man who was him and yet not him, was smiling. His reflection was smiling at him. The man’s hand slowly crept up to his face, feeling the hard set jaw, the slight frown. His reflection was smiling.
All the man had time for was a step back before his reflection suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist. Horrified, the man tried to shake his arm loose, but to no avail. Determinedly, his reflection tugged the man closer and closer. Meaningless protests spilled from the man’s mouth, but the other either did not hear him or did not care. All too soon the man reached the mirror. He couldn’t make a sound as he saw—and felt— himself pass through.
A warm breeze hit him.
He glanced around quickly at his surroundings before looking fearfully up at his captor. Expecting an evil clone, so popular in movies, he was surprised to see that his reflection no longer looked exactly like him. The black hair was longer and messier; gone were the immaculate clothes, and in their place, a T-shirt and jeans. However, the face was still the same. It was still smiling, too—a convincingly warm smile.
“What did you do?” the man demanded. “Who are you? Take me back! What did you do? Take me back right now!” To the man’s amazement, his reflection just laughed gleefully.
“I can’t believe it worked!” he grinned.
“What worked?” demanded the man.
“The mirror! You! I’ve been working on it for my whole life! I can’t believe it!” The twin looked over the man. “You don’t look exactly like me though, do you? Hmm.”
“I could say the same,” the man said defensively.
His look-a-like glanced up, surprised. “I guess you could. Ah! I’m being so rude. Of course you’re confused. No don’t leave yet!” He grabbed the man, who had been inching back towards the mirror. Now the man realized that the room they were in was not exactly like his bedroom either. Everything was slightly off, somehow… “I want to talk to you! Please, just listen—I’ll explain.”
“Don’t touch me!” the man growled. He fought frantically to get away, panic setting in.
“Okay, okay! I’m not touching you!” His reflection backed away. “Just relax! I’ll explain, really. I’m not going to hurt you.” The man took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down. This guy didn’t look that tough. He’d just have to wait for the perfect time, catch him off guard.
“First off, I’m not your evil clone. Truly. This is probably” the twin laughed suddenly and corrected himself “actually, this is most definitely hard to believe, but I’m actually you—but in an alternative reality. This reality. My reality. I’m you, but also not.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m an inventor. I invented this mirror, which allows the person looking into the mirror to get a hold of their other self in the alternative reality. I was actually just testing it, and apparently it works.” He laughed again. “Pretty unbelievable right? But I’m really rather curious about how I am in your reality. First off, my name’s Leon. I presume yours is too?”
“Actually,” the man replied coldly, “it’s not.” There was a terse silence. Leon looked surprised, then thoughtful. “And I’m not telling it to you either, so if you don’t mind, take me back to my house, or country, or whatever, right now.”
“You mean your reality?” Leon corrected gently.
“Sure! My reality! My world! My universe! Whatever you want to believe,” the man spat out, frustrated. “Just take me back!”
Leon sighed and shook his head. “I can’t stop you. Just go back through the mirror.” He gestured to the mirror leaning against the wall, exactly where it was back in the man’s own room. The man took a deep breath and darted a suspicious glance at Leon. He started walking slowly towards the mirror, still keeping his eyes trained on Leon’s disappointed face.
As he approached the mirror, he eyed it doubtfully. It looked pretty solid. He stuck his hand out—and it went through, startling the man enough to jerk his arm back. Leon coughed politely. The man looked furiously at him again, and then returned his attention to the mirror. He cautiously stepped through, felt a sticky suspension, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he looked around and recognized his own room.
He turned back around to face the mirror, half expecting to see Leon behind him. But it was his own reflection in the mirror, looking sadly at him. A few seconds later it changed its expression until it was frowning, and it was once again just a simple mirror. The man frowned even more deeply.
It was impossible. Inconceivable. Ridiculous.
And yet…
Oh, what the heck the man thought. He stepped through the mirror confidently.

~

Leon looked up in surprise as the man strode darkly back out of the mirror. “You swear this is a reality alternative to my own? It’s not a trick?” Leon looked at him, speechless, and only managed a weak nod. “Fine. Then show me how it’s alternative.”
Still blinking away his shock, Leon said slowly, “Well, the proof is everywhere. Look around. Look outside. Everything should be almost like it is in your reality, but a bit different.”
The man walked over to the window and looked out. Sure enough, those were his neighbors. There was the woman pruning her roses—no wait, here they were lilacs. There was the shy old man, here eagerly playing with the street children. The man stepped away from the window to look at Leon. He saw the laughing crinkles on his face, the easy smile, the comfortable sandals. He saw himself, in an alternative reality.
He saw himself, happy for once in his life.
“Noel,” the man said slowly. As Leon began to smile, he added more clearly, “My name is Noel.”