Sadly, they didn’t find the chance. She kept walking past them, unaware of their penetrating gazes, only keen on getting out of the club. Her handbag swayed with her stride and her shiny curly hair bounced up and down as she exited.
The New York street was crowded with people, all hurrying to get home. The girl’s only concern was to get home to her apartment as fast as possible. She passed a large window of a tattoo parlor, and immediately stopped, horrified at her reflection.
What appeared to be her reflection was now contorted with complete ugliness. Her hair was tangled in knots, her outfit looked as though someone buried it in the dirt, and her handbag was ripped, revealing unwanted things.
The girl looked down at her handbag in horror, then realized it was perfectly fine. She touched her hair, looking down at her clothes, and noticed that they too, were perfect. She looked up with a frown.

Her reflection looked back at her with a toothy smile.