She faced herself in the mirror and asked.

‘Will you let me wear this black and white skirt, will you let me feel its coolness round my ankles?’

And she smiled. She asked again.

‘Will you let me wear my white cotton blouse, the one with Pre-Raphaelite sleeves and if you let me wear it, will you let me walk by the canal?’

‘Will you let me use my small feet to make imprints in warm grass?’

And she smiled into the mirror. She supposed she came here to say yes.  

And yes, she would let me wear the black waistcoat too and she nodded into the mirror.

Yes, I will let you wear those clothes and navigate by the waters.

The mirror held her and as she walked from room to room, she peeled, ages came and went. She felt giddy in the potential before the wave function collapsed and a path was taken.

She liked the Will You game. It appealed to her mischievousness.