Introspection

“Beware the house of mirrors.”

Tim sat silently in front of the old gypsy woman. He had paid five dollars to have his fortune read. He expected there to be more. Instead, the old woman stood up and pointed a long claw-like finger at the door. She then turned and walked out.

‘Typical carnival rip-off,’ he thought.

He wandered aimlessly. He thought carnivals were a big waste of time. The only reason he came was to watch the locals being taken advantage of by the carnies. Such idiots; spending tens of dollars to win dolls worth fifty cents. He despised the people whose weakness made them stand in line for hours to get on a ride that lasted less than a minute. They were such losers.

The fortune teller had been a whim – something to put a mix into his evening.
His ramblings brought him to the edge of the grounds. Looking up, he saw the House of Mirrors in front of him. He was surprised that this was the only ride in the whole place without a line in front of it.

'What the hell,' he thought.

There was no one to take his ticket so he walked right on in.

Immediately, he found himself lost amongst what appeared to be hundreds of mirrors. He could see himself in each one. There was something wrong here. Each reflection was different. In each one, he saw a reflection of a true aspect of himself. He saw himself as a little boy, as a bully, as a vain teenager and as a fearful adult. He saw hundreds of truths and in the end; it was too much for him.

Eventually, the carnival packed up and left town. As for Tim, he never emerged from that particularly strange ride.

Word count 300