| Fantasy Fiction posted July 26, 2023 |
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gypsy
The fortune teller
by Iza Deleanu
How the heck did I become the evil twin of Snow White? I know last time I was white, and no, I haven't used a mirror. I have become obsessed with this piece of glass that "makes all my dreams come true, not!". I say every morning before I go to work: "Mirror, mirror in the wall, who's the cutest of us all?"
And she always says the names of my friends. Today was Susanne. I die of envy, but what the heck? I asked for it.
Then it is my turn: "Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell me something I don't know!"
I'm telling you, the moment I finished that sentence, she started just like a fortune teller: "My darling, you lost twenty pounds."
I pretend to believe:" OH, my gosh, did I ... lost? What else?"
"My beauty, today you will meet a person... wait for a handsome man that would change your life."
I pretend that I am happy. Yup, I will meet a handsome man. That's my lawyer. Today I am officially filling for the ugly D and saying goodbye to what I thought to be the love of my life. I wonder, after how many broken relationships, we stop using big empty words such as: "love of my life," "my soulmate," "my only," "my bla, bla, bleah, and o-la-la ."Lost in my thoughts, I don't notice when my fortune teller, aka the mirror, stops talking to me. Somehow I feel someone's gaze touching my soul. The mirror changes colors, and the silver fades to gold, and I feel a warm light engulfs me. "Great, I will burn just like a real witch." Somehow I levitate towards the mirror, which catches me in its ripple.
I should be afraid, but I am not. I've been through so much I don't care if I am trapped inside the mirror. My fortune teller shows her real face behind the mirror. She looks just like me, but her eyes are greener, and her skin is darker. She looks like a gypsy. She takes my hand and says:
"Come here, sister. It's time for you to rest and replenish your soul with hope. You cannot go through life like an empty vessel. You need to wake up and accept that you are part of a bigger plan, and self-pity is not part of that scenario. Close your eyes, and let us heal you."
For the first time in my life, I do as I am told. I close my eyes and wait. I feel hands wrapping me in something silky like a spider web. The material drapes my whole body. I found myself sealed like a mummy. I have two options: to become a beautiful butterfly or a fantastic corpse. At least in death, I will be the cutest of them all.
I feel pushed through a circle and then deposed gently on the ground. I open my eyes. I am standing in front of the mirror. I look at my body, but I don't see the old me, but perfection. I admire myself for a second, but then I panic and scream: "Please put me back... I want to be me, the old one."
The mirror exclaims: "You were always complaining that you want to be beautiful... perfect."
"I was joking. With my old me, I know how to navigate this old world. With this new and glamorous body, I have no clue how to behave. I know you meant well, but it will be better if you let me learn my lessons."
"Okay, as you wish, but you cannot complain anymore."
"Roger, that! Mirror, mirror on the wall, let's stroll in the mall."
"Girl! Are you crazy? How can we go? I have no legs."
"I know. It was a rhetorical question." Listen, you stay here. I will go and come back... not."
I don't need a mirror to learn how to live my life. I will let the mirror be forgotten in that room. Some day another me will play the mirror game.
Mirror, Mirror contest entry
How the heck did I become the evil twin of Snow White? I know last time I was white, and no, I haven't used a mirror. I have become obsessed with this piece of glass that "makes all my dreams come true, not!". I say every morning before I go to work: "Mirror, mirror in the wall, who's the cutest of us all?"
And she always says the names of my friends. Today was Susanne. I die of envy, but what the heck? I asked for it.
Then it is my turn: "Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell me something I don't know!"
I'm telling you, the moment I finished that sentence, she started just like a fortune teller: "My darling, you lost twenty pounds."
I pretend to believe:" OH, my gosh, did I ... lost? What else?"
"My beauty, today you will meet a person... wait for a handsome man that would change your life."
I pretend that I am happy. Yup, I will meet a handsome man. That's my lawyer. Today I am officially filling for the ugly D and saying goodbye to what I thought to be the love of my life. I wonder, after how many broken relationships, we stop using big empty words such as: "love of my life," "my soulmate," "my only," "my bla, bla, bleah, and o-la-la ."Lost in my thoughts, I don't notice when my fortune teller, aka the mirror, stops talking to me. Somehow I feel someone's gaze touching my soul. The mirror changes colors, and the silver fades to gold, and I feel a warm light engulfs me. "Great, I will burn just like a real witch." Somehow I levitate towards the mirror, which catches me in its ripple.
I should be afraid, but I am not. I've been through so much I don't care if I am trapped inside the mirror. My fortune teller shows her real face behind the mirror. She looks just like me, but her eyes are greener, and her skin is darker. She looks like a gypsy. She takes my hand and says:
"Come here, sister. It's time for you to rest and replenish your soul with hope. You cannot go through life like an empty vessel. You need to wake up and accept that you are part of a bigger plan, and self-pity is not part of that scenario. Close your eyes, and let us heal you."
For the first time in my life, I do as I am told. I close my eyes and wait. I feel hands wrapping me in something silky like a spider web. The material drapes my whole body. I found myself sealed like a mummy. I have two options: to become a beautiful butterfly or a fantastic corpse. At least in death, I will be the cutest of them all.
I feel pushed through a circle and then deposed gently on the ground. I open my eyes. I am standing in front of the mirror. I look at my body, but I don't see the old me, but perfection. I admire myself for a second, but then I panic and scream: "Please put me back... I want to be me, the old one."
The mirror exclaims: "You were always complaining that you want to be beautiful... perfect."
"I was joking. With my old me, I know how to navigate this old world. With this new and glamorous body, I have no clue how to behave. I know you meant well, but it will be better if you let me learn my lessons."
"Okay, as you wish, but you cannot complain anymore."
"Roger, that! Mirror, mirror on the wall, let's stroll in the mall."
"Girl! Are you crazy? How can we go? I have no legs."
"I know. It was a rhetorical question." Listen, you stay here. I will go and come back... not."
I don't need a mirror to learn how to live my life. I will let the mirror be forgotten in that room. Some day another me will play the mirror game.
And she always says the names of my friends. Today was Susanne. I die of envy, but what the heck? I asked for it.
Then it is my turn: "Mirror, mirror on the wall, tell me something I don't know!"
I'm telling you, the moment I finished that sentence, she started just like a fortune teller: "My darling, you lost twenty pounds."
I pretend to believe:" OH, my gosh, did I ... lost? What else?"
"My beauty, today you will meet a person... wait for a handsome man that would change your life."
I pretend that I am happy. Yup, I will meet a handsome man. That's my lawyer. Today I am officially filling for the ugly D and saying goodbye to what I thought to be the love of my life. I wonder, after how many broken relationships, we stop using big empty words such as: "love of my life," "my soulmate," "my only," "my bla, bla, bleah, and o-la-la ."Lost in my thoughts, I don't notice when my fortune teller, aka the mirror, stops talking to me. Somehow I feel someone's gaze touching my soul. The mirror changes colors, and the silver fades to gold, and I feel a warm light engulfs me. "Great, I will burn just like a real witch." Somehow I levitate towards the mirror, which catches me in its ripple.
I should be afraid, but I am not. I've been through so much I don't care if I am trapped inside the mirror. My fortune teller shows her real face behind the mirror. She looks just like me, but her eyes are greener, and her skin is darker. She looks like a gypsy. She takes my hand and says:
"Come here, sister. It's time for you to rest and replenish your soul with hope. You cannot go through life like an empty vessel. You need to wake up and accept that you are part of a bigger plan, and self-pity is not part of that scenario. Close your eyes, and let us heal you."
For the first time in my life, I do as I am told. I close my eyes and wait. I feel hands wrapping me in something silky like a spider web. The material drapes my whole body. I found myself sealed like a mummy. I have two options: to become a beautiful butterfly or a fantastic corpse. At least in death, I will be the cutest of them all.
I feel pushed through a circle and then deposed gently on the ground. I open my eyes. I am standing in front of the mirror. I look at my body, but I don't see the old me, but perfection. I admire myself for a second, but then I panic and scream: "Please put me back... I want to be me, the old one."
The mirror exclaims: "You were always complaining that you want to be beautiful... perfect."
"I was joking. With my old me, I know how to navigate this old world. With this new and glamorous body, I have no clue how to behave. I know you meant well, but it will be better if you let me learn my lessons."
"Okay, as you wish, but you cannot complain anymore."
"Roger, that! Mirror, mirror on the wall, let's stroll in the mall."
"Girl! Are you crazy? How can we go? I have no legs."
"I know. It was a rhetorical question." Listen, you stay here. I will go and come back... not."
I don't need a mirror to learn how to live my life. I will let the mirror be forgotten in that room. Some day another me will play the mirror game.
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