My bones feel new, brittle. You won’t have heard any apocryphal stories about me because no one seems to know anything about me. My body is a sheet of paper from a worn manuscript, folded into the origami shape of a man. My life has been stuffed into a satchel and carried to publishers. Its words are my words. He has no name. He belongs to no race or nation. He has no definable personality or allegiance. Only the dead city of mirrors holds the key. From the mind of Chris Kelso, author of The Dregs Trilogy, comes I Dream Of Mirrors; a transgressive, sci-fi horror.