The Mirror Beyond Time

The mirror had always been there, tucked away in the farthest corner of the antique shop. Dust clung to its ornate frame, an intricate web of vines and flowers etched in tarnished gold. Elliot found it while wandering aimlessly through the shop, the bell above the door still jingling faintly behind him. He wasn’t searching for anything in particular, just killing time on a gray, drizzling afternoon.

It called to him, though he couldn’t explain why. The surface of the mirror shimmered faintly, even in the dim light, and when he stood before it, he felt as though the air around him grew heavier. There was an inscription at the top, carved so finely he almost missed it: To see the lives unlived, simply ask.

Elliot frowned, his reflection staring back at him with the same puzzled expression. “The lives unlived?” he muttered under his breath.

The shopkeeper, a stooped man with thick glasses, appeared behind him with uncanny silence. “It’s an old piece,” the man said, his voice raspy but warm. “Not for everyone, but for those who are curious enough… well, it can show you things. Versions of yourself from other paths you might have taken.”

Elliot blinked at him. “Other paths?”

“Other timelines,” the man clarified, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Alternate selves. Choices made differently, roads taken—or not. The mirror shows them all. But be warned: once you start looking, it’s hard to stop.”

Elliot chuckled nervously. “Sounds like something out of a fairy tale.”

The shopkeeper simply shrugged. “Fairy tales often carry truth. Would you like to try?”

Elliot hesitated, but the pull of the mirror was irresistible. “What do I have to do?”

The shopkeeper gestured to the mirror. “Stand before it. Ask to see.”

Elliot took a deep breath and stepped closer. The surface of the mirror rippled like water beneath his gaze. “Show me,” he said softly. “Show me the lives I could have lived.”

At once, the mirror’s glass seemed to dissolve, revealing a vibrant swirl of colors and images. A figure stepped forward, and Elliot realized with a jolt that it was him—or someone who looked exactly like him. The alternate Elliot wore a tailored suit, his hair slicked back, and his smile was wide and confident.

“I’m you,” the man said, his voice richer and more assured. “Or rather, the you who took that finance job out of college.”

Elliot stared. He remembered the offer, the one he’d declined to pursue his dream of becoming a writer. “And how did that turn out?”

“Fantastic, if you like money and status,” the alternate said with a smirk. “Not so much if you like happiness. I climbed the ladder, made millions, but burned out before forty. No family, no friends left. Just… money.” The alternate’s smile faltered. “It wasn’t worth it.”

The image faded, replaced by another version of Elliot. This one wore a lab coat, his eyes bright with curiosity. “I’m the scientist you could have been,” he said. “I cracked the code for interstellar travel. But it came at a cost. My obsession destroyed every relationship I had.”

On and on it went. Each version of himself brought a new story: the musician who never made it big but found peace in simplicity; the adventurer who lost everything chasing a thrill; the teacher who inspired countless students but quietly grieved the family he never had time to build. Some versions of himself were joyful, others broken. Each life was a tapestry woven with choices, regrets, and triumphs.

But then, one image lingered. This Elliot looked tired, his shoulders slumped, his face etched with grief. “Who are you?” Elliot asked.

The figure looked up, and his eyes—Elliot’s eyes—were hollow. “I’m the Elliot who never forgave himself,” he said. “For her.”

Elliot felt a pang in his chest. “For who?”

The image stepped closer. “Anna,” he said. “The one who asked you to stay, but you left. I’m the Elliot who let her go.”

Elliot staggered back as memories surfaced—memories he had buried deep. Anna. She had been everything to him once, but he’d walked away to chase a dream. He told himself it was the right choice, that he couldn’t be what she needed, but now, staring at this broken version of himself, doubt clawed at his heart.

“What happened to her?” he whispered.

“She moved on,” the alternate said, his voice tinged with sorrow. “She found love, had a family. But you? You spent the rest of your life wondering if you’d made the biggest mistake of all.”

The mirror’s surface rippled again, and Elliot saw glimpses of a life with Anna—a wedding, a house filled with laughter, children running through a sunlit garden. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t his. Not really.

The shopkeeper’s words echoed in his mind: Once you start looking, it’s hard to stop.

Elliot tore his gaze from the mirror, his heart pounding. “Enough,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’ve seen enough.”

The mirror’s surface returned to glass, his reflection staring back at him with wide, haunted eyes. The shopkeeper was watching him, a knowing expression on his face.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” the old man asked.

Elliot swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

He left the shop that day, the weight of the mirror’s revelations pressing down on him. The choices he had made, the lives he had lived—and not lived—all blurred together. But one thing was clear: the future wasn’t set in stone. He couldn’t change the past, but he could choose how to live now.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.