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Writing Contest #28 Entries!!
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Breaking FreeAnnie noticed the room had no mirror. The women who called this a temporary home likely had no need of one. She didn’t. She could feel the swelling on her face, had seen the bruising before.
She recalled his fist in the reflection, filling her vision, brushing her ear as she tipped her head to the side. The heavy blow struck the silvered glass, splintering it into a star of wrath. Each shard captured his angry face.
His venomous words wrestled with her screams, as he turned her and punched and punched and punched. He left her blubbering on the floor, snatched his keys and said he was going to the hospital – his hand needed stitching – demanded his dinner be ready on his return.
Later, hovering in the doorway, she almost changed her mind. “You’ll need another mirror,” she said, kept steadfast by the splintered image: each sliver representing a prior beating.
The room was stark: pealing paint, second-hand furniture, damp. But, it felt safe.
No mirror!
Annie didn’t need one; she intended never to look back again.
Mirrors are prisons.
Captive worlds of limited view.
Annie flung open a window, drew a lungful of air, and yelled, “I’m free.”
TrappedWhen I look at you, you smile, sometimes, other times you flinch and pull a face, which you cover with creams, and paint, and powder, and coloured pencils. You ignore me most of the time, just looking back at Her: the mask you wear.
Soon you will learn that I am two mirrors, the one you look inside, and the one on the surface which bounces back at you. You’ve been bouncing all your life, like a tennis ball flung around by rackets in other hands. You always did what they wanted, what was best, didn’t you?
What will you do now that the reflection has gone, because the bouncing has stopped and the silver sheen has been wiped away?
You’re frightened because you don’t recognise the Other Her, the one who is inside and won’t bounce back. Who is she? What does she want? You ask, but she is silent, waiting for you to remember, yet you can’t.
We’re alone at last, just you and me. I’m the Other Mirror, the one you never dared look into before, and you’re the Other Her. Now you’re trapped inside, until you remember who you are without the mask you wore before.
One mans mirror…It didn’t matter how often Luke studied the primitive beings that were set out before him. It didn’t even matter to him that their nervous systems and brains were so under developed that they didn’t even know he was here, let alone being aware of a class of gawping students monitoring every single little idiosyncrasy in their life cycle. The fact that nature had made the little critters still gave Luke a sense of awe, and despite his position as one of the greatest anthropologists alive today it made him wonder if there really was a god.
“Mr. Windar?”,
Luke was dragged back to the hum drum of his lesson by one of his smarter students.
“Yes, Slarti?”
“If these beings can only live and see in three dimensions what do they see when they look at us?”
“A good question Slarti! They see a mirror”
Luke turned away from his class to write this fact up on the pscho board, glancing for a moment to his right and checking his appearance in the mirror.
The AuctionThe elderly auctioneer pointed his gavel at the attentive audience, scanning their faces for any sign of a twitch or a nod. ‘2500 once - 2500 twice - Sold to the gentle man at the back!’
Ben heaved a sigh and smiled. He’d got them. The two Gothic mirrors were his. Ben held the first mirror at arms’ length, admiring the carved wooden serpents adorning the ebony frame. The mirrors had belonged to Sir Cedric Fortescue - a prominent Satanist with a scandalous reputation in the 18th century.
He held the other mirror out, rubbing his thumb across the tactile serpent’s head. That’s strange, he thought. He checked the back of the mirror and looked into the mirror again. There was no reflection.
Suddenly, the air chilled. The walls of the auction house melted away, replaced by an ominous landscape of crooked stone crosses and violated headstones. Ben gaped in alarm at the dark reflection rippling across the mirror’s surface. Fiery eyes flamed from the demon’s face. Clawed hands grabbed Ben’s head and dragged him into the mirror.
The stout porter wheezed to pick the mirror up. ‘Get the other mirror, Bill. Someone’s left them again. We’ll put them in next month’s auction.’
On the subject of the Other Mirror:It really wasn't the same as the other mirror. Yes, it bounced her face back at herself, reversed the depressing wrinkles and lines as the other one did, and managed to make her look twenty years older than she felt, but it just wasn't the same.
The other mirror loved her, had grown up with her, understood her worries, the pressures of her life and could ease her mind and make her forget about her anxieties for just those few precious moments as she passed it in the hallway. This mirror did none of that. It was vicious in its honesty, trite, pedantic and cold; it took her soul, screwed it up in a ball and threw it back at her with steely glazed precision. As mirrors went, it was just too accurate and she hated it.
The spray can said “lacquer, medium pink, 300ml” on the label. She shook it till the pea stopped rattling, aimed at the callous, glass spirit and pressed the button on the top. The air filled with a sublime rose mist as the particles of forgiveness coated the glass. There! So much better now, she reflected with joy. And much more practical than glasses.
Love AffairIt began when her dark, soulful eyes caught his. He was mesmerised, wanted her all to himself. He wooed her with poetry, using words and images she’d never heard from other men, and all the time, he saw shadows of others’ lips and hands on her. It was unbearable.
One night, before leaving to go to her place, he took a four inch bradawl from his toolbox, jammed a cork on its needle-sharp tip, and slipped it into his pocket.
Later, as she leaned back in her chair, he saw again what he was losing. He got up and walked round behind her.
‘Remember Kahlil Gibran? Mirrors of the Soul?’ he said.
She shook her head.
‘He talks about a thirsty man in a cage of gold and jewels, but without water. That’s how I feel. Your eyes are the mirrors of my soul and windows into yours.’
He leaned over her. ‘And what a soul you have’, he said, letting his tongue lick butterfly kisses on the lid of her left eye.’
‘Mmmmm. What a nice way to clean a mirror,’ she said. ‘Don’t forget there are two of them.’
‘Ah. I have different plans for the other one.’
The Other MirrorCold silver shimmers
On night-harbour’s deeper chill.
The other mirror.
Hmm, some thought-provoking stuff here. I'm not at home just now but will put the poll up later.
Sorry for the delay :Voting is open :
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/...
Above for total infinity vortex, below to vote :
https://www.goodreads.com/poll/list/5...
I seem to get caught in a total infinity vortex when I click that link...
Don't forget to vote. We currently have less votes than entries.
I have voted :)
Ich habe gevoten. Or something like that.
And the winner is The Auction!!! Well done Allan :) Please could you send me a new topic so I can sort the next one?
Ah! This time, I have the honour of placing last :~) Maybe I should stick to novels :~/
Well done Allan; you had my vote.
Thank you. Totally surprised. I thought there were 2 or 3 better than mine. I really liked Love Affair.
This comes fast on the news that book sales in my TOM O’KELL series have tripled. I’ve now sold 3 books in 4 years. I haven’t prepared an acceptance speech but I would like to thank my 9 kids for voting for me and my wife for buying the 3 books although she did say that the recycled paper isn’t as gentle as Andrex. :O)
This comes fast on the news that book sales in my TOM O’KELL series have tripled. I’ve now sold 3 books in 4 years. I haven’t prepared an acceptance speech but I would like to thank my 9 kids for voting for me and my wife for buying the 3 books although she did say that the recycled paper isn’t as gentle as Andrex. :O)
✿Claire✿ wrote: "And the winner is The Auction!!! Well done Allan :) Please could you send me a new topic so I can sort the next one?"
Hello Claire,
Rooms and Corridors for the new topic.
Best Wishes,
Allan
Hello Claire,
Rooms and Corridors for the new topic.
Best Wishes,
Allan
Allan, if you send me a private message with your email adress there'll be a £5 Amazon voucher in it for you.
Congratulations Allan. Great, chilling story. Your 9 kids did you proud and what a joy it must be to have a wife of such sensitivity.
Thanks Bill. I always said my missus talks through her bottom. Bless her. :O)
Well done Allan! I've just downloaded the first book in your Tom O'Kell series.
Thanks Philip (sarah) Hope you enjoy it. You must be young at heart. :O) Book 3 is my personal favourite as there are more characters and their personalities are more developed. I'm actually missing my characters and I am just trying to work out a plot for the 4th book but it just won't click together yet. :O(
There will be a poll to vote.