Article: 261446 of talk.bizarre
From: (k.tatroe)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: [repost] Mirror of Her Dreams
Date: Fri, 01 Dec 1995 08:32:01 -0700
Organization: Writers are queer so keep away from them
Lines: 26
Message-ID: <>
Status: O

The door had never been open in that way before.

Never the full, inviting open that it appeared now. Life is friendly, they
said. These are the things dreams are made of. The dream had never been in
that way before.

The girl had never felt so alone. Returning finding no one there. Her mommy,
her daddy. Her precious teddy. All gone. The latchkey kid disappointed. The
empty halls echoes footsteps; louder than normal. She wandered slowly down
the corridor - a voice - is this normal? - of course not. A drip in the
kitchen. Echoing. Like her footsteps echoing. Like the door open door
flapping in the wind.

By the time they were visible, nothing was a surprise. Not dull red; that
is, not dry. Like a mirror, reflecting. The chandelier was visible, pale
and ghostly image. Swaying in the backdoor open breeze, not unlike a cobra.
Cobra. Strike; not dull red. Like a mirror, reflecting. Them, the wellsprings
of mirrors. Mirrors of her dreams.

The key slowly splintered to the floor.

And skittered and splashing and a trail across the floor. Chalk circle

-k. ftsd-95
(repost of firstpost)