Husband bought a rectangular mirror to lean against our bedroom wall.

Cat walked past once, twice, thrice … without noticing it. Then, finally, he happened to stroll directly toward the mirror—and was astonished to see another cat walking toward him. He froze, staring straight at the intruder with just as much curiosity and enmity as his first encounter with the little black cat.

The cat in the mirror glared back at him with the same intensity—a warning. Cat took a few paces back, and so did Other Cat. Cat arched his back, and so did Other Cat. Sensing something was amiss, Cat’s fur stood on end in a show of aggression, but Other Cat responded in kind at the very same moment. Flustered now, Cat went swiftly into full battle stance. Steeling himself, he sprinted at his opponent and pounced, claws at the ready, taking a hefty swipe—only to smack the glass with a resounding thunk, claws skittering helplessly across the smooth surface.

Cat hit the ground and looked left and right, as did Other Cat. Resuming the attack, Cat found himself somehow unable to lay a paw on the enemy. He scrabbled wildly at the mirror, the two of them clawing ping pang at the glass.

Cat suddenly stopped, retracted his claws, and fixed his eyes on the mirror. The two cats glared at each other, then something suddenly softened, and their gazes turned tender. Cat tilted his head to one side, and so did Other Cat. Cat batted his eyes, and Other Cat reciprocated. Cat looked all around, then back at the mirror. By this point, his demeanor had returned to its usual vague amiability. Drawing closer, he took a sniff at his counterpart but smelled nothing. Relaxing his vigilance, he moved another step closer and stretched his head forward, hoping to rub against Other Cat’s neck. Other Cat leaned toward him too, and they spent a while nuzzling each other, eyes shut in ecstasy.

Finally, Cat slowly opened his eyes. It was dawning on him that something still wasn’t quite right. Straightening up, he began scrutinizing his surroundings again. Eventually it hit him: no matter what he did, Other Cat would do the same, but opposite. The same rhythm, speed, distance.

Cat let out a confused cry. Other Cat’s mouth opened too.

Refusing to give up, Cat pressed his nose against the mirror again. He would sniff his way to the truth. His snout went forward and back, thoroughly investigating every inch of not just the mirror but its surroundings too. Not one whiff of another cat, just his own cat self.

He stood stock-still, waiting for the miracle of his imagining to take place. Other Cat waited too. Time passed. Cat’s body grew limp. His legs splayed as he succumbed to sleep on the floor, showing his belly, licking drowsily at his chest fur.

Since then, Cat has taken to gazing at his reflection several times a day. The hostility in his eyes is long gone, replaced by something harder to pin down. He sits there for a long time, growing fonder and fonder of what he sees.

After some time, Husband moved the mirror to another room. Cat didn’t find its new location right away and instead looked in horror at the empty wall, snuffling and pawing at it before stalking away. He returned after a while only to find the wall still blank.

It took Cat an entire day to track down the mirror. Once again, he crouched before it, staring unblinkingly at Other Cat, sunk in a world of his own.