Once, while making myself a cup of tea, I glanced at the reflective surface of the kettle. Water has boiled but I wasn’t in a rush to pour it into a cup. Changing my mind about wanting some tea, I kept looking at the kitchen interior, perfectly fitted into a silvery mirror. Then, I came across my own image, warped and looking like someone else standing in the corner of someone else’s kitchen. Our cat Zippina decided to jump on the table and this also hasn’t been ignored by Kettle. Everything that was reflected on its armour existed in some fresher, more intriguing dimension, where only the two of us were allowed in. The Kettle and I.
