She had already covered it. She was sure. Before lowering
the blinds on the ground floor, she had been up and hung a heavy sheet directly
over the mirror. She wondered exactly how it could have fallen for a moment
before dismissing the thought and carefully hanging the mirror back up. The thought
returned… the sight of the bare mirror, the sheet carelessly on the ground, it did
seem strange. She was further unsettled by the look of her frightened reflection,
hesitating at the edge of the bedroom. She slowly crossed the bedroom and
paused before bending to pick up the sheet, her hand froze as if there was
something poised under the sheet waiting to strike her outstretched hand.
Such nonsense. She smiled but still hesitated. That is when
she suddenly remembered the strange grin of the antique dealer, his features
seeming so unpleasant and out of place to her. She shuddered at the memory.
Hadn’t he mentioned her name when offering to help with the loading?
She stood straight and investigated the mirror. If Lars heard that…
She stood straight and investigated the mirror. If Lars heard that…
“You buy an overpriced, and frankly ugly mirror, just to
hide it away five minutes later under a discoloured bed sheet!?! That is bizarre,
even for you, Lara”.
She smiled when she heard her husband’s words, words that he
never actually spoke.
Lars has been dead for six years.
Lars has been dead for six years.
Yet there she was, clutching an old sheet getting angry at
herself. What is this nonsense about?
The merchant had not mentioned her name. The mirror did not
make her uncomfortable.
The sheet had fallen to the ground for natural reasons.
She would finally go to bed and tomorrow find a new place in
the house for this (quite ugly) mirror.
Very Simple.
She threw the sheet over the mirror and breathed deeply.
That is when there was a sudden knock at the door.
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