A little bell rang as I walked through the door.
The late golden sun slanted through the front window
and lit the shelves on the walls
with its warm brilliance.
Jars and tins,
filled with oddities and curios,
were stacked from floor to ceiling—
or was it ceiling to floor?
I ran my finger
along the edge of a shelf.
Dust fish sprung into the air,
swimming in chaotic circles,
sparkling in the sunlight.
The wooden floor creaked
beneath the steps of my feet
as they traced a well-worn groove.
And there amongst the shelves
a mirror on the wall,
and meaning to check my hair
I turned to my reflection
only to find my left eye at the bottom of my nose
my right ear tilted upwards,
but I could not tell which was actually broken:
the mirror or me.