The window that never reflected

 

Experimental Short Story Series #36
Title: The Window That Never Reflected
By Faraz Parvez (Pen name of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal, Former Faculty Member, Umm Al Qura University, Makkah, KSA)

A Blog Exclusive | www.farazparvez1.blogspot.com
Where fiction dares to question reality.

In a world ruled by mirrors, a window without reflection became his undoing.

Tariq inherited the house unexpectedly—a decaying Victorian at the edge of a forgotten cliff town, sea winds howling through broken shutters. His great-uncle, a man of riddles and untraceable income, had left no explanation. Just a deed. And a note: “The third window faces truths. Be kind to it.”

That window sat in the study, tall and narrow like a cathedral pane. Yet no matter the hour, the light, or his angle, it never showed Tariq’s reflection. At first, he laughed it off. Old glass, old tricks. But curiosity, like salt, has a way of creeping through cracks.

On the fourth night, while sipping tea under a damp moon, the window changed. It still revealed the sea beyond—but also him. Or someone who looked like him. Standing beside a woman with violet eyes and a child with his father’s crooked smile. A family he never had.

Tariq blinked. The vision faded.

Night after night, the window offered a different version: Tariq as a celebrated cellist in Vienna; Tariq as a beggar under a rusted bridge; Tariq in prison; Tariq in love; Tariq in the grave. Each image appeared more vivid, more insistent. Each one made him question the life he’d lived.

What if the window wasn’t showing fantasies? What if these were choices not taken—echoes of paths abandoned? The house creaked its agreement.

He tried to ignore it. Locked the study. Drew curtains. Drank more.

But the window called.

It whispered his name in the hush between dreams. It tapped its pane during thunderstorms like a lover too long scorned. It began to weep dew—not from outside, but inside, as though mourning the man who wouldn’t look.

And one day, the reflection blinked back.

That version of Tariq wore a suit. Held a violin. Smiled.

He reached toward the glass.

And the real Tariq disappeared.

Author's Note:

We’ve arrived at #36 in our Experimental Short Story Series, where we fold reality into fiction and fiction into questions. “The Window That Never Reflected” invites us to confront the unknown corners of identity—the choices we make and those that unmake us.

In these times of curated reflections and algorithmic affirmations, what if one pane of glass dared to defy the echo?

This blog, curated under the literary vision of Faraz Parvez, stands as a beacon for readers who hunger for originality, daring, and depth. We are crafting 60 experimental stories, and with each, we inch closer to a full anthology—an eBook and a limited hardcopy edition that will preserve this bold literary voyage for years to come.

Bookmark. Subscribe. Share. Reflect.
And always, peer through your own window… carefully.

Next story coming soon: Experimental Short Story #37 — Stay tuned!
Visit: farazparvez1.blogspot.com


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