All About Us

They didn’t notice when the mirrors started changing.

Not at first. The reflections were still reflections. But something behind the glass had grown more curious. Hungrier.

It started in the café. One by one, they turned their cameras to selfie mode, checking angles, swiping filters.

“This lighting makes me look haunted,” one laughed.

They all agreed. No one saw the flicker.

A blink too long. A grin that didn’t end when the mouth stopped moving.

It spread faster than news. Everyone was doing it, capturing themselves. Profiles. Updates. Voices tuned to echo chambers, each post another shrine to the sacred self.

“Tell me who you are,” the app whispered.  “Again.”

They answered, endlessly.

Each iteration peeled away the outer skin. Sharpened the jaw. Brightened the eyes. Removed what wasn’t perfect. Until what remained… wasn’t them. But it liked being seen.

Soon, no one went outside. They stayed inside the feeds, inside themselves. There was so much to curate, so much to refine. A thousand selves polished to a shine, screaming into the void. And the void had begun to listen.

Some began to vanish. First, their eyes would blur in photos. Then voices in videos lost sync. People scrolled past them without noticing. Until finally, even in person, no one could remember their name.

One by one, the reflections began to look away. Not at the camera. At something behind the screen. And when they reached through, one hand, then another, no one noticed.

Because the feed was still refreshing.

Some tried to stop.

They deleted apps, threw away devices, covered their mirrors with blankets.

But the blank spaces only made it easier for something else to look back.

And it was all about us.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                            ~D.G