The Mirror Knows Everything (microfiction)

“Look into the mirror,” she said. “What do you see?”

She was a strange woman, weirder than I usually go for. I didn’t know how to answer these random questions she asked me so often.

“Well, I see the sky right now because the mirror is pointed up.”

She turned the mirror toward me, still blocking her face.

“Wrong answer,” she laughed playfully.

“Then what’s the right one?”

I was tired of playing these games with her.

“I see a man with bad intentions,” she said, her voice turning darker.

“What? Are you talking about me?”

She put the mirror down and gave me a cold stare. Then, without saying a word, she ran off through the field toward the woods. The sky was overcast and threatening rain, and I called out for her. “Where are you going? What the fuck? What about our date?”

She was about thirty feet away now and stopped and turned toward me. “The date is over,” she yelled. “Find your own way home. My third eye has told me the future, and the future with you is bleak. Do what you like with that information, but I am gone forever.”

It was perhaps the worst date I’d ever been on, and I still tell the story to friends every so often. Her name was Clara, and she was the strangest woman I’d ever met. But she may have had a point. Was I just looking to get laid? Was I really genuine about taking her out?

I guess we’ll never know. She made sure of that.

The End

(Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash)

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