Smoke and Mirrors

When a boy moves into his new home, his hopes and dreams crumble like the old house's walls. But upon discovery of a strange mirror, could his new home be a bit less boring than he thinks?

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1. Prologue

The pale, panicked expression on the lone figure’s face swam beneath a frosted silver sheen. The spider web threads of metallic ancient cracks criss-crossed and clung to the pulsing temples, and the ivory lips blew a gentle mist which clouded a nonexistent surface. A hand, hanging limply by the child’s waist, floated up, trembling, and pressed flat against a cool, glossy wall. The child pushed gently, but the invisible barrier showed no sign of giving way. Letting the hand fall immobile back to his side, the child stepped back and, with just the hint of a worried edge to his quick stride, retraced his footsteps down the narrow corridor lined with panels of stained oak.

         On the other side of the see through surface an exact copy of the event played out at the same time, but the cracks had snaked away and the block digits of the number “80”, printed bold on the back of a royal blue sweatshirt, were reversed to their original state.

         As the dirty off-white trainers of the child disappeared round the end of the corridor, a blue haze clouded only one side of the invisible wall, and a deathly pale face as white as the puckered moon shone luminescent in a milky glow. The tight, thin, pencil-etched lips parted to form harsh yet soft words, like a shallow pool of tidal ebbs yet the deepest depths of the ocean also.

         “He will come.”

The sentence left the black cave mouth like the rustle of paper, and then the face was wiped off the glass of the mirror to leave the empty hallway clear of all human touch.

 

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