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by Floss Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #1096851
Fantasy flash
The mirror spun on its edge, a round ball on a stone waist-high pillar. On its surface a silent picture show played for the small audience seated on cushion-topped black and white marble. Blades hummed from the ceiling, sending cool breezes down to hot bodies.

Calis sipped his drink, enthralled by the man and woman on the mirror. His wide eyes watched them haul a small boat from the lake’s still water, conceal its presence beneath the lush green shrubbery, hoist their backpacks on tired shoulders and steal away with nervous backward glances.

“Let them go,” said his wife. “They’re in love.”

She leaned forward, circled a slim finger with a red-painted nail over apples in a crystal bowl, selected one, leaned back and bit into it. He looked from the mirror and watched her eyes, clear and grey, smiling across the low white table at him. He saw the sparkle in them that appeared when she wanted to get her own way, a playfulness, teasing.

“She’s just a child.” Saying it made him feel old. He had a dream once, just like theirs. A dream of leaving the city, venturing out into the world beyond the city walls, a world of uncharted mystery that no one had ever seen.

“No younger than I was when I met you.” He remembered finding her amongst the burning rubble, her body charred and burnt, how he carried her for hours, her head against his chest, after the last of the bombs had fallen, after the other world was destroyed.

“What if there’s nothing there?” He turned back to the mirror and watched the two figures begin the long stretch across the deadlands, heading towards the mountains, the last marker of their home world. Soon it would be too late to fetch them back. Alissa stood and circled the table to sit beside him, draping her arms around his neck. He stroked his hand along the smooth skin of her arm, the scars long since healed, nothing but a distant bitter memory.

“Remember when we first came here?” she asked. He nodded, his thoughts drifting back. He’d walked for hours, Alissa in his arms, the rasp of her shallow breaths the only sign that she was still alive. He hadn’t been able to feel his arms or legs. From the thick grey air came a sprinkle of tiny stars, draping around him, giving him new energy. He felt himself being lifted, cradled, comforted.

“We were so lucky.” She leant her cheek against his shoulder then snuggled her face into his neck. He loved listening to her talk, hearing her soft voice, almost a whisper.
“The spirits gave us a second chance.”

Calis watched the figures grow smaller, watched the daughter he’d raised and loved walk away.

“Look.” Alissa pointed a finger towards the mirror. A trail of tiny stars had appeared behind the couple.

Calis smiled. “Now I know she’ll be alright.”
© Copyright 2006 Floss (lineva at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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