The Birthday Mirror

         The mirror was delivered on Saturday; a birthday gift from my Aunt Celma.  I was not sure what to expect, Aunt Celma can be a bit eccentric.  We moved it into the upstairs bedroom out of the way, really.  It was a bit too ornate to fit with the rest of our decor and my husband said it gave him the creeps. 

         We had gone to bed early that night, but around midnight I was awakened by an odd sound.  Pulling myself out of my sleepy haze I could swear someone was calling my name. I lay there listening, trying to make sense of the noise, then I heard it again.  Someone was definitely calling me.

         I shifted the blankets and slid silently out of bed.  My husband’s snore picked up then faltered but he did not wake up.  I slipped my slippers on and headed out of the room careful to close the door behind me.

         Out in the hallway, I waited poised to move wherever the sound drew me.  I did not have to wait long.  It was coming from the spare bedroom.  I walked in a looked around.  There was no one there.

         “Dalia...Is that you?  Take this silly blanket off me.” 

         I froze.  My eyes swivelled to the bed but no one was there.   

         “The mirror, dear.  Take this blanket off so I can see you.  I am sure Dale must have thrown this blanket over.  I can’t see a thing.” 

         I looked towards the mirror and sure enough there was a blanket covering the thing.

         “I know your there, dear.  I can hear you.”

         I moved to the mirror and pulled the blanket aside, letting it drop from my grasp as soon as Aunt Celma’s face came into view.  My mouth dropped open and a squawk of sound passed my lips before I threw my hands over to hold back the sound.

         “Oh, now come dear.  I do not look that bad.”  She laughed at my baffled look. 

         “What?  How?”  I stammered.

         “Oh, dear...other than looking at me.  You are looking at a mirror that will allow you access to talk to others and see them...”

         “Like Skype?”

         “Oh no dear, better than Skype.  You can talk to anyone...living or dead...and believe me the dead ones get to the mirror fast than you live sort.”

         “What?”  I tried not to squeal.  Remembering Dale was still sleeping down the hall.

         “All you need do it think of someone and call their name.”

         “Who?”

         “Anyone.”

         “Anyone?”

         “Yes, dear.  I have had some lovely conversations with my mother and father.”

         “They’ve been dead...what, some twenty years?”

         “Exactly.”

         I stared at her bewildered.

         “I’ve even had lovely conversations and tea with the Bronte sisters.  Jane Austen, even.  Lovely, dear.”

         I shook my head, still unable to believe what I was seeing and hearing.

         “Really, dear.  Do you just love your gift?”

         “Thank you, Aunt.”  I said politely.

         “I can see you don’t believe me.  Well let’s see...If we both think of your father maybe he will appear...I haven’t tried it with the both mirror working but if we both think of him....”

         Aunt Celma gave me a nod encouraging me to try.  So shaking it off, I closed my eyes and pictured my father in my head.

         “Now call him, dear.”

         I did as she asked then opened my eyes to see my father’s face form out of a misty haze.

         “There...Jeffery.  Wonderful to see you, dear.  Doesn’t your daughter look good?  Just had her thirtieth birthday...”

         I could not speak.  My eyes wide I stared.  Taking it all in.

         When I did gain my voice, I whispered, “Daddy?”

         He beamed at me.  Then I dropped to the floor.

         “Oh, dear.  Sorry Jeffery.  She’ll get the hang on this yet....So how are you doing anyway?”

 







Word Count = 636