Prompt Day #32: Write about a magic mirror of some kind, set in a banal location (like a roadside rest stop or the lobby of a fast food restaurant).
I’m going to be honest with you. I just wasn’t feeling this one. I’m sure it will show as you read it. I’m not real happy with it but that leads me to what I wanted to say which is: Please remember that I do truly write these daily based on the prompt for that day. That means every one of them is a rough draft. Sometimes I get the chance to edit a lot and sometimes I don’t. The ones I really enjoyed, I go back and work on later when I need to work on something else to clear my head. But for the most part, I am presenting my raw work without frills…so BE NICE 😉
I never imagined my existence would come to this. The things I have seen since I was hung up in this truck stop bathroom would make the most vicious villain cringe. I used to be sought after. I adorned the walls of many a castle, reflected the faces of great beauties, both good and evil. I doled out wisdom, always the truth even when it wasn’t what my mistress wanted to hear. Oh, I was a powerful seer. Now I have nothing to offer except knowing where the cheapest gasoline can be found or as a lookout late at night when a couple’s having a quickie or sharing a bit of the magic weed.
You may be asking how I found myself here in this dismal position. Ah, my friends, time and tides, they wait for no mirror-man as the saying goes. As I said, I was a great seer and spent my early years as a mirror for a fairy godmother. I watched her work her magic every day and, as the years past, I was able to absorb more than I reflected. Soon, I was able to tell who was the most beautiful in all the land, who was the wealthiest. I knew when enemies would strike and when best to strike them. Eventually, the fairy-godmother presented me as a wedding gift to her godchild, now fully grown and having used her godmother’s talents to find herself a husband, had no further need of the godmother. The now very wealthy new wife was also very vain. She obsessed in front of me, always needing to know who was the most beautiful. As you may or may not know, this woman’s step-daughter soon grew to be much lovelier and might I add, more gracious than she. I did try, truly I did, to stop her, but as her servant, I was bound by magical law to abide by her commands.
Fear not, she was beaten by the Prince who fell in love with the lovely step-daughter. Once my mistress was dead, I belonged to the man of the house who knowing how I praised the beauty and kindness of his daughter passed me on as a wedding gift (yet again) to his daughter and her prince. The princess wanted nothing to do with me. She asked her own fairy god-mother to put a curse on me and locked me away in the top of a tower, covered in black draperies. For years I sat lifeless, for part of my curse is that I must reflect light in order to use my magic. The Kingdom entered into a 100 year war known as The Charming War. This was because, as you may also know, Charming was a very popular name in those days and at one time every single kingdom was ruled by one Charming or another. The tower of the castle was severely damaged and my frame was broken. Beggars and thieves raided the rubble and I was carted away.
I lived happily for some time hanging on the wall of a poor farmer’s shack. Soon, however, the soil grew barren and the farmer sent his son into the village with the one cow to their name. He was to trade it for food as they had none. When his son returned with four beans, I begged him not to plant them. The boy insisted they were magic beans and while I didn’t disagree, I knew magic could work in an opposite way for the conjurer. The poor farmer had no choice but to plant them and pray they would grow. In the meantime, they needed something to eat and since I was the one thing of value, I was taken into the village the very next day and traded for food. It was probably for the best. One week later the house was destroyed by a giant.
Times were hard for the whole village though and while my frame was broken, it was still gold and so, my frame was removed by the shopkeeper and sold. I felt so barren and ugly, I retreated into myself and there I stayed. Occasionally I would peek out but just enough to see if things were looking better. Usually I was just hanging in some pawn shop or on someone’s lawn in what was called a yard sale. Frankly, it was humiliating and I quit trying to see anything.
One day, as I wallowed in despair, I heard a cackling and my magical heart skipped a beat. A Witch! A witch was better than I could have hoped for. It no longer mattered to me who my master or mistress was as long as they believed in and respected my magic. I came out of hiding and put my whole face right up to the front of the mirror. There she was…but this was no witch. Her hair was big and frizzy like a witch’s. Her more than ample bosom swayed and hung low in her tunic. She did not wear the corset or frills of any witch I had ever seen. And the powder I assumed she was using to make an evil potion instead got snorted into her nose! She leaned far in until her forehead almost touched mine.
“Hey! Who’re you? You some kind of pervert?” She asked. I wanted to retreat, but I was at her mercy.
“I am your servant. A magical mirror. Please ask your question; how may I serve you?” I announced
“What? You serious?” She looked at me like I was made of lead.
“Of course, Mistress, what may I do for you?” I replied.
“Hey, can you keep an eye on the door for me? I got a friend coming in here to party with me and we’re gonna need some privacy. Now what I mean?” She asked, coughing and then, then the lady spit! She expectorated into the basin like a man! I obeyed. This went on for days: the nose potion, the naked ballroom dancing and the coughing and spitting. Then one day she came in and called to me.
“So, I was thinking, you know how you said about asking you anything?” She asked with disbelief
“I am at your will” I said.
“So, you know what the lotto numbers are gonna be tomorrow?” She asked. I didn’t know exactly what lotto was but then she brought me a ticket and I immediately saw the correct numbers light up on the card. I called them out, she wrote them down and that was the last time I ever saw her. Many mistresses have come and gone since then. Nothing much changes except the type of powder or potion and the time it takes them to ask for the magic numbers.
I miss the days of fairy-godmothers and beautiful princesses. I miss mundane items full of magical possibilities. But those days are over. This is my ever after until another magical being comes along to break the curse, then once again, I will return to my rightful place in the magical hierarchy and will once again grace the walls of the castle of a princess.