“Never cry into a mirror,” Julie’s mother told her many years ago - and frequently since. The first time was her seventh birthday: she’d fallen over and grazed her knee. Mum handed Julie a small mirror to play with while she cleaned the wound. No longer sobbing, Julie gazed fascinated at the riverbeds of dried tears that told tales down her cheeks.
When her mother applied the antiseptic Julie watched her reflection squeal, her eyes narrow and teardrops slip out again.
“Oh Julie,” her mother had looked up alarmed. “Never cry into a mirror! You may not see who’s watching you!”