I saw my soul in the Blink. This is what it looks like.
My soul is a bright, mirrored orb- somehow both mirror and light source at the same time. It is small, and floats in a cavernous area by itself. The walls of the area are a neutral gray in the light, but when the light dims, they grow darker and darker, eventually disappearing from sight, until the orb floats alone in the darkness.
Every time the orb is touched, the interaction leaves a smudge, an oily residue on my heart. Like one of those toy plasma orbs, where dancing beams of lightning walk along the inside of the glass, the light from my soul focuses on that residue. It HAS to focus on it, so that it can still shed light, but this only makes my orb dimmer, and dimmer overall. Every touch dims my orb, even my own clumsy, casual handlng of such a precious thing when I haven’t got the time for care. It dirties and dims until it feels nearly extinguished. Too rarely, I retreat from without, retreat within, to polish the orb lovingly, and wipe away the grime that has built up.
When my orb dims enough, I become aware that, like an incandescent bulb, there is a tiny filament that produces my light. And the light produced there is just as pure as ever, just as kind. But when this lonely spark’s glow is filtered through the tarnished mirror, the quality of the source makes little difference.