Authors: Ruthi Kight
“Sorry,
sweetie, but I have an idea and as soon as it popped into my head. I think I
might have found it.”
“So,
what did you have in mind, my dear?”
“I
think that a mirror would be something that they could both use, and share.
And I absolutely love this one,” she said, as she pointed at a freestanding
mirror.
It
had delicate floral patterns that climbed up from the legs, and twined around
the top, almost like the creator had let flowering ivy grow around it
naturally. There wasn’t a distinctive pattern, as one side had tiny, delicate
roses and the other had large, hibiscus blossoms that marched up to the top,
where it was crowned with a beautifully inlaid tiara where the blooms mingled
together in profusion. The carvings were so realistic that Charlie could
almost smell the fragrant flowers.
“I
know it looks a little rough, but I really think that if we clean it up and
treat the wood with some polish that it would be gorgeous. In fact, I can’t
really explain it, but I know it would be perfect for our girls. Hopefully the
two of them will be like the blooms, while they may be different, together they
are absolutely gorgeous,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“Hmm,
I don’t know,” Mark said, doubtfully. “It seems a little overdone for a couple
of teenagers, you know?”
“Trust
me dear, girls like a little bit of frou-frou every now and then. I want it,
more than anything else, I want this for our children,” she replied, looking up
at him with a near puppy dog expression.
“Okay,
okay, but please stop looking at me like that!” he begged, not being able to
resist her, not that he could resist her anything to start with. But that
expression always got him and he was man enough to admit that, even if it was
only to himself.
Feeling
particularly worn out, I watched the display between the man and his wife. The
pulse I had first detected was fairly faint, but if that ugly old man fondled
the surface of my prison one more time I was sure I would be ill.
When
the young woman had begun to search through the trash in the store, I had done
my best to reach out to her, planting images in her head of how beautiful my
mirror would look in her home, how she couldn’t possibly be happy unless I went
home with them. I didn’t realize how difficult that simple exercise would be,
as it used to be something that I could with ease. It was one of the ways that
I had hooked the attention of the horrid woman who had hurt so many others.
There was still a part of me that truly wondered if this would be the best
idea, but like I said the creepy little man, well, I couldn’t take him any
longer. He worried me more than any potential repercussions of trying to contact
someone on the outside again. There were worse fates, I thought, than to be
taken home with a loving couple.
After
observing them together in the store, I felt fairly confident that things would
be different this time. They were so much in love, the emotion so evident it
became tangible. I could nearly feel it myself, trapped as I was in the cold,
unfeeling world of a mirror. Seeing them together, I was reminded of a time
where I didn’t exist in this freezing prison. Fleetingly, I could feel arms around
me and sun on my back, but as quickly as it came, it flew away. I felt so
bereft, unable to recall whose arms had been wrapped so lovingly around me. I
would be a lot more content if that particular memory had never resurfaced, as
once again I was reminded of how lonely my existence had been up to this point.
Shoving
my self-pity to the side, I once again tuned into what was taking place in the
real world. The two were standing in front of me now, gazing thoughtfully at
the frame. I longed to reveal myself to them, but things now were not what
they used to be. Magick seemed to be something that was sorely missing in this
world, which was not always the case. But I knew, even without being able to
recall the changes that had taken place that this was not the time to try and
connect with them. If I did, I could sense that they would flee the store
screaming hysterically, leaving me with the scheming dealer.
“Patience,
patience, patience,” I chanted, reminding myself that I had to proceed with
caution.
As I
looked on, hidden from mortal eyes, the young couple seemed to come to a
decision, hailing the rat-faced shop owner. I wondered if I had it in me to
try to reach out yet again, this time to influence the merchant. I wanted to
go with this couple, and would do anything to achieve that end.
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