Alone in the dark, she aimed her phone’s flashlight at the mirror’s surface. At first, nothing. Then she noticed the scratches—not random, but spiraling inward like grooves on a vinyl record. She leaned closer. Her breath fogged the glass.
It was the kind of Craigslist ad that made you hesitate: “Alicia Keys songs in a mirror rar — $5 OBO. Pick up only. Bring a flashlight.”
One dollar per song. The rest is silence.
These weren’t songs. They were moments —decisions, doubts, triumphs—trapped in the mirror’s silver backing by someone who’d learned to record not sound, but possibility. alicia keys songs in a mirror rar
Jenna laughed. He didn’t.
The mirror became liquid. She fell through.
She handed over five dollars. He left. The door clicked shut. Alone in the dark, she aimed her phone’s
Jenna realized the piano bench held a stack of CDs labeled “Unreleased — Mirror Masters.” She grabbed one.
She landed on a soundstage drenched in amber light. A piano sat center stage, no player. In the air, notes hung like tangible ribbons—the opening chords of “If I Ain’t Got You” suspended mid-vibration. But as she walked toward the piano, the song warped. The tempo dragged. The lyrics, when they came, were from a version she’d never heard: Alicia’s voice, but younger, raw, singing about a future she couldn’t see.
The seller—a wiry old man named Otis who smelled like sandalwood and static—let her in without a word. He pointed to a floor-length mirror tilted against the far wall. Its silver backing was peeling like a second skin. She leaned closer
And then she heard it.
Then she noticed the other people—frozen figures in the shadows. Not audience members. Other versions of Alicia Keys . One in a sequined leotard from a 2004 tour. Another in a hoodie, scribbling lyrics on a napkin that never filled. A third, older, crying into a phone that rang without end.
And sometimes, when she passes a mirror too quickly, she swears she sees Otis smiling back, holding up five fingers.
Not from speakers. From inside her own skull. A piano riff, warm and familiar—“Fallin’”—but reversed. The melody pulled backward, words turning into ghost vowels. She tried to step away, but her reflection wouldn’t move with her. The other Jenna smiled, tilted her head, and mouthed something silent.