That Damned Mirror

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After several giddy minutes spent making silly faces with my son, I sighed and held him close, and smiled. I looked at our reflections in the mirror, in awe of the perfect little cherub I was blessed with.

"That's my boy", I said matter-of-factly, pointing to my son's reflection while beaming with pride.

My reflection flickered momentarily, before an unearthly hand stretched out from the glass and plucked my son from my lap.

"No, that is MY boy", a guttural voice declared.

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