“I’ll have to change the store’s name to Mega Magic Mirror Mart,” I thought, going over the ledger and seeing in Jonathon’s neat hand writing: “one antique magic mirror, unique, cost $0.” He had an obsession with magic mirrors; word got around that he was an easy touch.
I was puzzled by the $0.; we always paid something up front if on consignment, or bought it outright. “Better take a look,” I thought. A free magic mirror worried and intrigued me.
It was propped against the back wall covered with a brightly woven rug. I pulled the rug off; the mirror was one of the most beautiful pieces I’d seen. The mirror was a strange geometric shape but not a circle or square. The frame had intricate carved runes and figures. Warriors and housewives. Children and dragons. Fairies and ploughmen.
The reflective surface at first appeared cloudy, but it cleared, like fog from a beach. I could almost smell the sea tang and feel the sand under my feet; the mirror reflected this scene.
It then morphed to other of my favourite places: water rushing over rapids; forest clearings; wildflower meadows. Each time I experienced the smells, textures, sounds of the place. I was transfixed; I couldn’t look away. Then the shop appeared in the mirror. This time there was a creature too. It was me or at least a version of me. I/her gestured at myself from the mirror to come in, to join her/myself in the backwards shop.
I took several steps, then closed my eyes to break the spell. The mirror now leans against a wall in the storeroom. Covered with the same rug. Every now and then, I go back there to see my special places, and to get to know the special other me.