Mirrors.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?
I have a love hate relationship with mirrors. I love the ones that give me long legs and a finely toned body, and hate the ones that portray me as I am. I shop in those stores which deliberately have flattering changing room mirrors, even though the result is that I take home clothes which look completely inappropriate when viewed in my bedroom mirror. Some of the worst offenders are the mirrors attached to CTV cameras on buses. When I look at them I appear to see a very little old lady sitting in my clothes on the top deck. As realisation dawns, I sit up straighter and hope that she will metamorphose into a young willowy blonde wearing my clothes. When this doesn't happen, I avert my gaze and studiously examine the passing scenery. The older I've become, the less I like looking at my reflection, but I still find it a challenge not to check myself out when walking past windows that act as giant mirrors. It is so sad, but so true!
The mirror in the blip is situated in the new Quartemile Development which his Lordship and I walked through this morning on the way to the Farmer's market. It is there at a junction so that traffic can be seen exiting, but it intrigued me because of the distortion of the image - a bit like the mirrors I love then!