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[personal profile] learned_soul
Hey, lookie! I've got something that's not fanfic. *does a little dance* I feel so original. *grins*

The mirror would not let her through.

The girl put her hands on her hips and gave it a long intent stare, as if sheer stubbornness would change the mirror’s mind. Her reflection just kept on staring right back at her. She thoughtfully pursed her lips for a moment and raised a hand to hover over the tarnished silver of the mirror’s surface before brushing a finger along it, expecting to leave behind quivering quicksilver ripples in her wake. Instead, she only left behind a long streaked fingerprint.

She frowned, shaking her head confusedly. This wasn’t right, the mirror wasn’t supposed to act like this. For as long as the girl could remember, the mirror had always let her though, even if it had never worked for anyone else.

“You’re not making any sense today!” She told the mirror crossly, huffily folding her arms and glaring at it. When this failed to get any results the girl kicked it and stomped her feet in a manner to make a small elephant proud.

The mirror remained unmoved by her show of temper.

The precariously stacked boxes behind the mirror, however, were and decided to make themselves known by tumbling to the floor with a resounding crash that sent dust flying to coat everything in the attic in a new layer of dust. The girl sneezed violently while glaring through squinted eyes at the mirror, which had somehow managed to stay dust free. The girl would bet anything that it was magic, but she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be impressed at the moment.

“Elle Alison Anderson-Pierce, what in God’s good name is going on up there?” Her mother shouted from the kitchen. “You know you’re not supposed to be in that attic; get your butt down here this instant, young lady!”

Elle Alison Anderson-Pierce took a few moments to tell the boxes, dust and especially the mirror, exactly what she thought of them using the very bad words she’d heard her daddy use to talk about politics.

”Stupid mirror.” She scowled, giving it another good kicking before stomping her way down the stairs to be scolded by her mother for playing where she shouldn’t.

After Elle left, the attic stilled and became quiet. But it didn’t stay that way. Something rather peculiar began to occur to mirror. The mirror’s surface started to become distorted and began rippling, as if someone were skipping stones across its surface. Slowly, a long crocked nose began to emerge from the mirror’s depths, followed by a pointed chin, which was accompanied by a fine blue top hat until, eventually, the head of a wizened old man with wild white hair protruded from the mirror.

He blinked, as if surprised to find himself where he was and craned his head from side to side, searching for clues as to his location. He grinned when he noticed the scuffmarks on the mirror’s frame. “Ha! It worked! This should teach that girl not to be so rude when visiting other peoples’ homes.” He gave small frown and sniffed, muttering to himself, “Still not going to bring back my prized tea service, though.” He heaved a sigh. “Ah, well…”

With that the old man began the slow process of dragging his head back through the mirror, until finally, there was nothing there to indicate that he had ever been there at all. And that was the last of the whole matter for quite some time.
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August 2010

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