Below is my entry for the 2021 Spring Writing contest. I had one glaring typo in the first paragraph that I have fixed. I did not place, but received an honorable mention. There were several very good stories entered, and it is indeed, an honor to be mentioned. The prompt for this contest was to use the words “strange mirror” somewhere in the story. The original version of my story was much longer and had to be trimmed down severely. After successfully doing that, I found my mind kept returning to this story, and I am now turning it into a novella. If for no other reason, that makes this entry a winner in my mind.
Marilyn traced her fingers along the ornate carving of the strange mirror. The glass was surrounded by dark wood, carved with words written in some strange alphabet. The full-length mirror looked ancient and mysterious.
“My mother would love this,” she said.
“Who’s your mother, again?” Betty, the sales clerk at ReNew Antiques, asked.
“Sally Marks.”
“Oh that’s right. I’m sorry, I just hadn’t seen you in years. You’re little Marilyn. And you’re right. She would love this!”
As Betty spoke, Marilyn stepped in front of the mirror. When she’d said her mother’s name, she swore there was a brief shimmer. She studied the glass for a moment before she noticed her reflection. She looked fantastic — younger, thinner, and prettier.
“How much is it?”
“For Sally’s girl, $40.”
“Really? It looks hand carved. Valuable.”
“It might be, but it has been in this store for years, and nobody has ever wanted it. I’d like to move it out.”
As they began to wrap the mirror, Marilyn once again noticed the strange words. “Do you know anything about its history?”
“Not really. It came to us from an estate sale. I think the family was from Romania.”
“Are those words Romanian? Do you know what they say?”
“Someone told me once it’s Sanskrit, but I have no idea if it is or what it says.”
When Marilyn got the mirror home, she set it up in her bedroom. She had planned to give it to her mother, who didn’t have a full-length mirror, but she loved how she looked in it. Or at least she had. Now standing in her bedroom, Marilyn looked exactly like she had always looked.
She took pictures of the words on the frame and sent them to her friend, Josh, who had majored in linguistics but now predictably worked as a dog groomer. He would love the mystery. Marilyn was right. It didn’t take him long to fire back an email with the strange mirror’s odd message.
Say the name of one you know
Their view of you I’ll quickly show
She had said her mother’s name just before seeing herself in the mirror. Was that how her mother saw her? Marilyn always felt criticized, but now she knew just how proud her mother was of her.
She said her good friend’s name, “Molly Simons.”
The mirror shimmered and again her image became slightly altered. Her hair was perfect, her smile was bigger and brighter, and there was laughter in her eyes. That fit. Whenever they were together, they spent most of their time laughing.
This was fun!
She thought of her boyfriend. They’d been together for years. She couldn’t wait to see how he saw her.
“Mark.”
The shimmer rippled across the surface and her image shifted again, but this time it wasn’t so flattering. Marilyn’s mouth was creased in a frown, and every bit of fat was exaggerated. Tears welled up in her eyes. Yes, they’d been fighting more lately, but she’d always thought they’d end up together. Now she knew the truth. Their relationship was over.
She wanted to feel good again so she quickly blurted out the name of her friend, “Cassie McDonald.”
With relief, Marilyn saw the shimmer and her image shifted, but now there was an arrogance to her… the way she held her head, her shoulders, the look in her eye. She’d always thought she and Cassie were close.
For the next few hours, Marilyn recited name after name, bouncing from joy to sorrow as she saw herself how others saw her. When she finally fell into bed, emotionally exhausted, she had to admit the mirror wasn’t healthy. The truth was, it was none of her business how others saw her. That was a reflection of who they were, not who she was.
The next day she set the strange mirror in the corner of her mother’s bedroom. Her mother ran her fingers along the carved letters.
“What does this say?” she asked.
“I had Josh research it. It doesn’t say anything. It’s just decorative. It’s supposed to make it look mysterious.”
Her mother gave her a hug, “Well thank you, Marilyn. I absolutely love it.”
Marilyn hugged her back more tightly than usual, watching her mother’s image shimmer and shift into a beautiful glow. “And I love you, mom. So, so much!”
Tales by the Fire 