As the woman turns to leaves something stops her, catches her eye in the mirror, something fast as a hummingbird flashing ruby and emerald by. She puts her handbag on the small table; she has just caught the corner and it falls. Her attention is drawn to her image, her self. She stands eye to eye, moves closer to the shadows that have since dimmed the glass with age.

For a moment she stands frozen, understanding what she is seeing is a rare and precious thing. Her breaths are as shallow as feathers. In between them she has already passed through.

There is a young woman smiling and she smiles back, reaches to touch the hand that welcomes her in, slowly closes her eyes.