Three minute fiction

NPR Recently held a contest for writers to write a fully fleshed out piece of fiction whose length was 600 words or less. Slightly less than two pages. We had to base our story, this year, on a picture that was given to us. Here's a link: . And here's my stab at this challenge:
Soul Shopping

A man passed behind Julia. She could see his reflection in the window, solid, like she could reach out and touch him, instead of the glass. Inside, a newspaper sat abandoned on a table. The man’s reflection faded when it touched the table. It became weaker wherever it was touched by reality.
Julia stared through the window where she hoped to see a man sitting at that table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. He was not inside and the paper sat alone.
Her own reflection could not be seen as she was standing to one side of the glass window. She stepped up to the window and her own reflection appeared before her. Her apparition seemed to disappear by some trick of the light, banished, in parts, by the table. It was as if she were not real, but were instead some ghost.
Others walked by, and their reflections paraded in and out of sight as Julia watched. Each one weakened by reality. Each one a ghost.
A voice spoke from a few feet away. “Don’t let it steal your soul.”
She flinched and turned to see the man she had met yesterday.
“I’m sorry?” She said.
“The Chinese have an old belief that a mirror can steal your soul.” As he spoke, he reached up and traced the face of her apparition.
“Really?” She watched the movement. His finger left a smear on the glass, and a chill on her spine.
“Yeah. I’m fuzzy on the details, but they don‘t like to have a mirror face their bed while they sleep.” He shrugged, and stepped past her to go inside.
Julia turned to look again at the table, still cutting into her reflection. The man took a seat at the table, and began to read the newspaper. It had not been abandoned after all. Her reflection smiled.
“Perhaps,” she said, “but I think this one is safe.”