Misaligned

The first thing that draws her attention when she walks into the room isn’t the mirror. The thing that stands out to her first is actually how large the room seems to be, with towering shelves of books along two of the walls, and windows on the one across from her that keeps the room from feeling dark or crowded. She steps towards the windows, feet leaving slight indents behind in the thick carpet that quickly fade away. After quickly glancing at the view she turns back to look at the books. Then she spots the mirror.
It was a bit to the left of the door that she had entered through, level with the floor, and framed in silver. She wouldn’t really have been able to describe the decoration on the frame as anything but not ostentatious, but still eye catching. She didn’t really have an eye for art. She briefly looks at her own reflection, but then her eyes instead travel towards a book, slightly out of alignment with the others on the shelf, that she only noticed in the mirror. She walks back across the room, towards the mirror, intent upon finding exactly where the book actually is in relation to the rows of others framing the room.
She reaches up, fingers barely brushing against the mirror as she notes where the book is in relation to the rest of the room. She turns back, and follows her own footprints back to the end of the room where the book should be. She glances back at the mirror, reaching her hand out towards where according to the reflection the light gray book should be. Her fingers find nothing but air, although in her reflection they seem to clip through the spine of the askew book. She gasps, and quickly yet firmly strides back towards the mirror. She reaches it, and continues walking.
The mirror seems to shatter for a moment, a hundred fragments of light fanning out in every direction before the resistance disappears and she continues walking forward. She reaches out, pushes the book back into its rightful spot, and walks backwards back towards the mirror. She steps back into the room, and glances around. The room looks the same as it ever did, with a slight indentation in the carpet marking her intentional strides towards the mirror from the shelf. Looking at the mirror, her footprints can be seen continuing towards the book in a straight line from the window, the book that is now flush with its peers.

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