I look at her, she looks like me.
Between the meanwhile dark outside and the inside, lit only by a small screen, there was initially only a smooth, dark rectangle.
But when I got closer, a barely perceptible shadow appeared, with spots of optical illusion in dark gray on dark gray.
Around her, the cold dark rectangle dominates, lying upright.
If I look deeper, if I look right through her, I can just see the outlines of trees and shrubs in the garden, quietly waiting for the sun to rise again tomorrow.
Perception on three levels.
I smile at her who looks like me and close the curtains.