The silver screen of the mirror stays inert. A woman examines her face. A
boy turns his back on the mirror. A girl carries the family mirror down the
street of her town, rescued from the bombing. Someone, a man perhaps, polishes
the glass as if he could reach perfection. Life goes on. Moisture evaporates on
a shiny surface. Our childhood goes on inside. Was it August when that argument
happened? Is the date important? What we remember is the feel of the rooms and
the view beyond. Where do desires come from? How do we learn to make
decisions?
4 of 10: 'Zerkalo', by Andrei Tarkovsky (1975), in English 'The Mirror'
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