Miranda Kate’s Mid-Week Challenge : 2019/09/22 (Week 125)

The song says,

“A mirror is a negative space,
With a frame,
And a place for your face.
It reveals what the rest of us see.
It conceals what you’d like it to be.”

Mirrors reflect everything, but you can’t see into them. Instead, you only see what they see. That’s how mirrors work. Light strikes the surface, and it’s not absorbed, or filtered. It’s reflected. Sent back the direction it came.

Standing in that forest, on that day, I saw them. The mirrors. They walked among the trees, like we did, going around, over, under, moving small branches, and pausing to look at things.

At first, I didn’t notice them, after all, they looked like the rest of the forest. Eventually, I realized they were there, only because underbrush doesn’t move, and sections of tree trunks don’t appear out of nowhere, and then vanish into thin air.

They stopped moving when I stopped, which made them difficult to see. I moved short distances, a step or two at a time, always stopping to look around, and see how everything changed. That’s how I found them. The background changed. The background didn’t always show the right things. By moving a yard to the left, I could make a tree branch vanish. A yard right, and a branch that wasn’t there showed up.

When I found such a branch, I started trying to get closer to it, only to see the scenery change in different ways, like bits of the forest were moving away from me.

The only sounds were my feet stepping on leaves, and twigs, my breathing, the occasional bird, the sounds a forest makes. I never heard them walking, or breathing. They made no sounds at all.

Eventually, moving bit by bit, I caught one off guard, it’s figure cut a human shaped hole in the image of a tree trunk. Mirrors reflect. The mirror was there, between me, and the tree, and a human shaped image of leaves resting on the ground, a couple of mushrooms, and my right shoe, looked back at me from in front of that tree.

“Who are you?” I reached out my hand, to indicate it was OK. I wouldn’t harm them. That I’d noticed them. And was curious.

They panicked. Like forest animals. “The human has seen us! Run!” Reflections went insane, parts of the forest flashed to and fro, moving in impossible ways. Until they were all gone, nothing moved. Nothing reflected an image that was out of place.

They were gone.

Without a sound.

Since then, I have returned to that place in that one forest, a hundred times, hoping to catch another glimpse of them. Always failing. It’s like they watch for me, and hide, when I arrive. I’ve never seen them since that day.

Sometimes, I wonder if they were really there, or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Sometimes, I wonder, are they hiding in other places. Outside the forest. Maybe in broad daylight. Maybe they walk through our parks, along our city streets, filled with glass, and reflected images. And we never notice them. Just another reflection among thousands.

And I wonder if they have faces, eyes, ears, noses, fingers, toes. Like we do.

I may never know. I may never learn. Because I have never found them since that day. When they showed me how mirrors work. How mirrors reflect light, so you can see what they see, and never actually see them.

I will keep looking. I will have my camera with me when I look. I want to get them in pictures, to prove they exist.

They do exist, don’t they?

I know what I saw that day. I know!

They do exist.

Don’t they?

625 Words

It’s week 125 of Miranda Kate‘s Mid-Week Challenge. You can read about Miranda’s small fiction challenge here. Please, go read Miranda’s short tale this week, and any others that showed up. The tales are always little works of art, crafted with words, meant to be shared, and enjoyed.

The music lyrics in the above piece are from the song “Mirrors” by Blue Oyster Cult. Here’s a link to a youtube video of the song:

Blue Oyster Cult: Mirrors


I sit in the dark tonight.
My cat sits on my lap.
She keeps me company.
I need company tonight.
I grab my music player.
Push the ear plugs in my ears.
Turn it on
And let my music play,
And I close my eyes.

It’s been a hard day.

Songs fill my head,
Drowning out the voices
I hear every moment
I’m awake.
Drowning out the chaos
Of a million different thoughts,
A million different perspectives,
On everything in life.

The differences between people.
Between men and women.
Between the left and the right.
Between Christians of all kinds.
The religions of the world.
And endless chain of thoughts.

Thoughts of right and wrong.
What is right?
What is wrong?
How does who you are,
Where you live,
What you believe,
What you learn,
Affect the definitions
Of right and wrong?

What are morals?
What are ethics?
What is religion?
Is there white privilege?
Is that something we’ve made up?
Is there such a thing
As a rape culture?
Or is that something different people
See in different ways?
Is it sexual harassment when you tell someone at work
They look good one day?
Or is that something our media
Have conditioned us to say?

It’s like this every night.
And endless string of questions.
And endless string of thoughts.
Echo in my head.
No one knows.
No one sees.
I keep it all inside.
Hidden from everyone.
Except for me.

It’s silent in the darkness of the night.
With the lights turned off.
With nothing on TV.
And me
Getting ready for bed.
To rest my weary head.

But it’s in the silence,
In the dark,
When the thoughts I bury endlessly,
Float to the surface.
Shattering the silence of the night,
With endless thoughts,
And endless questions,
From countless voices.
In my head.

That’s when I reach for my music.
Why I turn it up.
Why I use it.
To drown out the questions.
And silence the many thoughts.
That otherwise would echo in my head.
In the silence
Of the darkness
Of the night.

It’s April 22nd, the 18th day of the A to Z Challenge 2015. This is the 18th of 26 pieces I’m writing in April for the challenge. This one’s for the letter S. Tomorrow brings the letter T. I wonder what I’ll write for that.


#12DaysBop : Day 7 – When Sunshine Becomes Angry

It’s day 7 of Stacy Hoyt’s 12 Days Of Christmas Blog Hop. Today, the prompt is storms, and we learn it’s never a good idea to piss off a fairy named Sunshine…

It was a beautiful day. There were no clouds in the sky. A soft breeze flowed from the East to the West. It was a normal day in the village, with children playing, women cooking and cleaning, and men working in the fields, or tending to the animals.

No one talked about what happened three days earlier, when they’d handled that problem child. No one asked how she’d been handled. It was enough to know she was gone, and the village was safe again.

Sunshine walked into the village that day. Men stopped working when they saw her. Her strawberry blond hair cascaded halfway down her back, between her wings and caressed her bare shoulders. Her skirt flipped as her hips swayed while she walked, revealing even more of her legs.

Women stopped when they saw her. Their eyes revealing their jealousy, screaming, “I should look that good!”

The children gathered around the pretty fairy. Fairies were just magical to them.

When she reached the center of the village, she stopped, and looked at each person she could see. Then she spoke, her voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “She didn’t have to die.”

Silence was the only answer she received.

Sunshine looked to the sky and screamed as her rage erupted. The sky transformed into a swirling maelstrom of black clouds. The soft breeze became a linear wind that howled through the village, stripping branches off the trees, ripping fence posts from the ground and reducing every home to splinters.

A torrential rain flash flooded the village. Lighting flashed, and thunder rolled. It only lasted a few minutes for that storm to destroy the village. Every villager died. Then Sunshine flew away.

There was not a single cloud in the perfect blue sky that day.

Please go enjoy the rest of the stories in the blog hop. There are some really gifted writers out there. It’s well worth reading their work. You can find the other entries here:

The 12 Days Of Christmas Blog Hop, Day 7 – The Gift Of Storms

A Choice For Me To Make

I’m here,
In this big, cushy chair.
Bleeding into a machine once more.
Using my Iconia 100
To surf the Net.

I was all. set
To monitor Facebook,
And watch music videos
On YouTube.
Like I always do
While I sit here
In this cushy chair,
Bleeding for 2 hours
Or so.

When who I was
16 months ago
Slapped me in the face.
For Facebook
In its desperate way
Of trying to find you friends
Found a name today
I never thought I’d ever
See again.

The name of the Lenten Rose.

I fing it very interesting,
As I sit here in this chair,
To observe the chaos
That’s cut loose
In my emotions.

The simple truth
Of the life that I have now
Is very clear,
And very rational
To me.

Every one I used to know
Told me I had to leave.
It’s what they wanted.
So breaking that silence
They imposed
Isn’t up to me.

Despite my curiosity,
I know what I will do.
I’ll let the silence
That I didn’t start
Remain in place.

For it strikes me
As what I should do.
And what the people
I once knew,
Would ask of me.

And I know too
That by doing so,
One of the last threads
Of who I used to be
Is finally gone from me.

And I am one step closer to
Who I really am.
And what I’m meant
To be.