THE MIRRORED HEART.

Which is equivalent to Versailles’ Hall of Mirrors. A mirror, mirror stretched across the walls, reflecting the fairest of them all. For this short interim, silence hangs in the frames—washed across smooth, glassy surfaces where it’s absorbed as an absolute. An emptiness that is webbed and insidious; a soothsayer that persuades anyone to look where a glimpse catches reflections in return.