The mirror changed my life.
As night fell, and the lights were turned off, I heard voices floating through the room. I would have brushed it off as an overactive imagination, till I heard a distinct sound of thumping, and asking to be let out. I was careful enough to wake up my partner first and then switch on the lights.
I turned back in shock but saw nothing. Whose image was it in the mirror? – a woman in a grey dress and grey locks of hair, which almost merged in the night. The look was forlorn and pleading, and her glance directed more on my partner than me. I looked at him to see his face turn ashen. Did a past connection exist between them? We were well into the seventh decade of our lives.
“Where did you get this mirror from?”
“The antique shop at 77, Cross Lane, Life Avenue….. but …. how does it matter?”
I knew I’d bought a story along with that mirror – a story that connected the past to the future.