READERS CORNER: Short Stories Prose and Poetry

READERS CORNER: Short Stories Prose and Poetry

By Aiden Williams - November 29, 2025

A Moment to Reflect

By: Aiden Williams

In the morning, I awaken to the shimmering rays of the rising sun. Sluggishly slipping out from underneath the covers, I saunter out to the bathroom. Now, taking a moment to reflect.
In that short period of time, I never once appreciated the gift overlooked. The sun did not shine through the wall, and certainly I did not draw water to see my own reflection in the waves of the bathtub. A window allows the sun to shout a message of the night’s fall from the sky. A mirror patiently awaits to take in beauty and give it right back. The multipurpose reason for this is rooted in glass. An object forged from nature, passed down by our ancestors, hailed as a luxury, but now an almost unseen afterthought. It’s an object we look past to see the painted picture behind its nearly invisible body. It was born to be overlooked; eyes, like daggers, stare through its soul every day.

The mirror gave us a tool. Its high self-esteem takes in our dirty looks, its passionate clarity reflects smiles, and its patience to shoulder all painful moments, without even saying a word. It watches me grow and change with every passing day. It collects my words, I have practiced presentations, gathered thoughts, and even given a few hints of affirmations from morning pep talks. The mirror offers a new perspective on ourselves. A therapist with no words, a sponge that soaks it all in. Deflects the bad and reflects the good given to it, my mind, spirit, and body. It is the glass of truth, with a face of optimism.
A jack of all trades, like a Swiss Army knife, a use for all. A downright enormous ever-growing resume. With no interview, the application is accepted, and without question, it adapts and succeeds. It clocks in before anyone else, and it can handle everything: cables, screens, solar panels, and bulbs. It’s as old as the dinosaurs, but refuses to retire. It even soars through the skies, traveling by plane every day or hanging off the edge of a towering building. It has no fear and the stamina to travel to the moon and back.

Though our eyes eventually have a limit, using lenses to capture stars as they dance across an endless stage or to enhance vision, granting the power to see further into the universe and all its mysteries. Yet, it’s the picture captured or the vision gained that people appreciate. There would be no Oscar without glass; Mars would just be another glowing mystery in the sky, and I would watch as people have their faces glued to a page as they struggle to read even the simplest of books. I myself utilize this gift every day, wearing glasses that even rival the eyes of superheroes.

Turning and peering through a window. Looking beyond its hidden complexion to see the world behind my walls. Not only at home, but everywhere. At school, work, or even in a car. A fond memory of mine from my youth is of late nights, riding in the backseat, looking out to watch as the moon chased me home. Without windows, what would we have? When driving, there would be nothing to shield me from the vicious winds, as it thrashes and throws anything it can pick up, like a toddler having a tantrum. I might even catch a hitchhiking deer, now on their way to the vet. At home, my plants would scream in agony, never feeling the warmth from natural light, but that’s a bad example because my plants already hate me. Cutting holes in the walls would only cause more pain, as the neighborhood pest would treat it as an act of kindness, seeking refuge in open borders. It would be an active warzone that I wouldn’t have the courage to survive in.

Thirsting for more, how would I ask for a drink? “Can I have a glass?” Why subconsciously do I beg for a glass when I know it could be a cup of any material? Giving it that recognition without a care in the world. We all raise a glass to commemorate one another; we should raise another for the one who effortlessly keeps the celebration going. It is a vessel for liquid courage and the true host of the show

So, look around. Look at every piece of furniture, at every wall, and try to appreciate this ancient luxury, whether from the depths of a towering volcano or the delicate hands of a sculptor. When stained, I stop, but only to appreciate the picture on top. It hoists the paint on its delicate face, like makeup, spending hours to enhance its already glistening profile beautifully. Still, only seeing the beauty of the stain and not the glass. Even if it gives its best effort, backlighting the picture, allowing the sun to paint its own portrait on the grounds below.
Its value is only lost when it cracks, even though it was simply doing its job: providing light, holding warmth, and shielding me from harsh winds. When shattered, it is treated as if a wild animal were set loose. Stepping carefully with keen eyes, wading through the lush carpet like the floor of a forest, hunting for the slightest sparkle. Once gathered, it’s cast away, completing its journey mimicking the sand it once was.

Let me give you a chance to understand differently: we start fragile; over time, we become hardened. With added pressure, and Mother Nature stoking the flames that forged us, we become tempered, hardened. Take a moment to reflect and pick yourself up. You and I are fragile beings, but we may be chipped, but we are not broken. If shattered, pick up the pieces and become something new, yet remain the same shimmering self. Some may see right through us,
but it’s up to all to continue to shine. Take in everything and decide what to reflect on, because being fragile or overlooked doesn’t mean we are invisible. Give vision to the world around you, and dedicate yourself to improving society long after we are gone. Keep looking through the glass, and appreciate the gift received on the other side.