If a mirror existed that showed us our reflection, not as we appear, but as we feel; a pure reflection of our souls; what would I look like in such a glass? A rumbling volcano? An explosion of raging lava at a word said in a misjudged time? A spluttering of ash at a phrase uttered in a misused tone? But I guess it would be a mild volcano; no Vesuvius. Unsteady, yes, and explosive, but fading quickly; an Etna maybe.
You? What would your reflection be, my love? A statue made of marble, perhaps?
Emotionless, no explosions; cold to the touch, like marble?
All logic, no splutterings; clean and flawless, like marble?
For Friday Fictioneers.