Having thought back to that day, Isaac would get a chill as… something he’d not thought about in some time would come to mind. In his memory, one of his parent’s friends looked strange. He was a man but his hands were… backwards and his skin seemed just a bit too thin and stretched to thin making all the veins bulge unnaturally, and the way he moved somehow disjointed almost as if he had twisted bones that he felt no pain from yet somehow with an otherworldly grace. He moved in a way that was just slightly off. He had watched Isaac that night, smiling as he stood a few feet behind the boy’s mother. His hands had been clasped together and his head tilted slightly as he watched with his jaw clenched into a rictus smile that showed his slightly larger than normal and oddly flat teeth.<br/><br/>In bed that night, Isaac dreamed more vividly than normal… Enough so that any child would swear up and down that the dream they experienced was real. A mirror had appeared in his room, framed in silver filigree with a surface as black as obsidian.  In his dream he’d gone up to touch the mirror and thorned vines lashed out and grabbed his wrists and began to pull him towards the Mirror. He’d only gotten away by pulling away as hard as he could and when he looked down at his arm, rather than the expected blood, he’d find soft white down poking out of the wound that when pulled on would appear to be feathers. He had woken up, in a cold sweat… comforted by his mother and he never dreamed of black mirrors or saw the man with the backwards hands again for a very long time.<br/><br/>Isaac would arrive at Morning Glory just as they were preparing for the 5am rush. There was a young man behind the counter was busy wrapping silverware into napkins while he watched the morning news, he’d wave as Isaac entered, quickly grabbing a menu and silverware and setting it down with a glass of water at the bar. Morning Glory was one of those small hole in the wall types, with nowhere to sit but a counter and a few booths on the opposite wall, even walking down between the two of them was a tight squeeze. The young man behind the counter was Jeff, whom had been working there a few years. Just a few years out of high school Jeff was a tall broad shouldered man with dark brown hair that was pulled back into a pony tail, and thin wire rimmed glasses that didn’t seem to meet his frame at all and he was the only thing in the diner that didn’t look like it had been utterly run into the ground. Despite the name ‘morning glory’ the place was frankly kind of a dump… a clean dump… but still a dump. All the seats were ripped and torn and taped back together and the floor was hopelessly scuffed and worn down and the lights put off a slightly yellow hue.<br/><br/>“Y’make good money last night bud? I swear to my mum I had no less than three people run out on their bills last night… I guess it’s national be an asshole day huh?” He’d ask with a smile as he’d lean one of his arms on the bar.<br/><br/>“What can I getcha today? You look hungry.” He’d ask with a disarming smile.<br/>