His reflection wasn’t even trying to pretend anymore, he thought, as it blinked, once, and then twice without him. It smiled. Were his teeth really that sharp?
Later, if the police were to come looking, and they always did, the only thing they’d find would be a statue – beautifully crafted, very well-sculpted, ornately detailed, and a crumpled pair of very sleek, black sunglasses.
Grinning, only one of the officers would come to appreciate the piece, landing the joke with an inquisitive pat on it’s arm: “Don’t some of these things just look like they could come to life?”
Tatyana Woodall is a writer and journalist living in Ohio, where she often gazes at the stars. You can find her work at tatyanawoodall.com, and her Twitter at @TatyanaZaria.
The Centifictionist 
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