Would she hold his hand as they broke through the mirror?

Boy looked at Girl through glass, who stood next to him.

Looked at is too simple a way to put it.

The energy that is Girl spins through The Universe and bounces
photons like so many repeating waves of pinballs towards an
arrangement of energy in a crystalline structure that aligns those
pinballs, bouncees them isotropically off a flat sheet of hardened
carbon, focusing the photons in a tight, regular alignment back through
the symmetrical cage of the glass.

Now, these photons swim through the air, for this isnt a vacuumnot
yet at least.

From the moment these unthinkably beautiful waves of clusters of

photons repulsed the inverse of their charge along the trajectory that
would take them towards Boy, they begin to decay in number.

Though the mirror is expertly constructedimagined by the some of

the best craftsmen in this place, there are imperfections; there always
are, as this is the nature of the place.

The vapor in the aether delays and redirects the photons, diffusing the
cohesion of Girls image as it flies at near-light speed towards the
waiting singularity of Boys eyes.

When the living, biological cousin to the mirrors reflector receives and
intensifies the array of photons into a tiny spec at the back of Boys
eyes, a wormhole is created through time, a cone through a prism,
firing Boys neurons; connecting him to the infinity of emotions and
thoughts the image of Girl produce.

It is infinite joy and infinite sadness simultaneous. It is all things. It is

nothing. It is just this planck frame. It is every moment of every
universe.

It is every line of poetry from every song and every word from every
book; It is silence.

It is infinite complexity, and the black hole of infinite catharsis.

It is definable; It is undefined.

It just is, as long as Boy can have the thought that anything is.
It is too big, and it is not enough.

It has destroyed Boys religion and brought Boy back to some kind of
G_d.

And then Boy looks at the image in the picture framed reflection.

Boy realizes he forgot to clean the mirror, and Girl is sad. Her image is
faded, and distant.

Boy realizes if he doesnt clean the mirror, she cant see him that well,
either.

Boy realizes he must eliminate the speckled clusters of grime and

microbes that steal the photons from their journey, bouncing back and
forth between Boy and Girl.

Boy goes to war with Windex in his holster, one of the last remaining
bullets in his gun.

Boy keeps his gaze locked on Girl as he moves to wipe the angled
window free of debris.

He pulls the trigger and sprays a cloud of mist, revealing a

spiderwebbing of cracks in the mirror.

Boy has never seen them before. He doesnt know whether theyve
always been there, and the whole thing was always a breath away
from shattering, or if the fractal splintering developed over a period of
time.

Boy is hesitant to push on the glass any more with his towel, lest the
tiniest newton of force shatter the entire suddenly delicate structure.

Boy stands back, lost in paradox.

Boy sees the many Girls that are One Girl in the spaces between the
fractal spiderwebbing.

Boy squint.

Boy see straight through the middle of the glass to the One Girl, too,
shimmering lightly around the edges of the pooling mists.
Boy want to raise towel and begin to wipe gently, so he can see Girl
clearly again.

Boy hand shake.

Boy gently touch towel to glass.

Boy close eyes.

Boy cant help.

Boy see Girl.