A man I watch he thrashes trapped inside behind the glass, cuts himself on it, stopped he looks out desperately at me. Reaches towards me, stopped again by the glass, getting as close to it with his face as he can. I look again and he is standing back again, unperturbed identical to me. We think we move and the man in the mirror must move. It is the man in the mirror that moves us as a puppet.
People feel good.