Mirror Closed for the Afternoon

The room appears to be behaving, but its attention has collapsed into the mirror. Nothing reflects; the oval glass has gone plum-dark, drawing the tablecloth, floor, and light toward its closed surface. The bed and wall remain ordinary witnesses, making the disturbance feel almost private. Vera Lune's threshold is not a doorway here, but a sleeping object that quietly persuades the room to look inward.