Write a “day in the life” post from the perspective of an inanimate object.
I hang here, silent and unblinking, my surface smooth as midnight, my edges cold and unyielding. Each day, faces press against me—curious, careless, unaware that I am more than glass. I reflect, yes, but I also remember. Every smile, every tear, every secret they think is hidden.
I am the keeper of reflections, the threshold between what is and what lingers beyond. Some call me a portal, a doorway to the unseen. Others fear me. They whisper warnings when my surface shivers beneath their touch, tracing fingers that may stir echoes they cannot undo.
Today, a child leaned close, laughing at a warped reflection. Tomorrow, a stranger may strike me in anger or accident, and with a single crack, a superstition awakens—seven years of misfortune, the breaking of what should never be broken. I feel it all: the fractures, the tremors, the ripples that stretch far beyond the room I occupy.
I do not judge. I only remember. I hold the truths they dare not speak aloud: the things seen, the things hidden, the things that cross the threshold of this world.
Handle me with care. Treat me with respect. I am not mere glass and frame. I am a witness. I am a keeper. And I never forget.
The Cozy Nook | Stories · Food ·Gaming·Magic 