As Lucy was passing by the mirrored walls in the lobby of her office
building, her heal stuck in a crack in the marble floor, and she stumbled
then tripped, reeling palms first into the mirrored wall, completely
shattering the glass.
She picked herself up with a start. She was no longer inside her office
building, but in a passageway. A seemingly endless dark tunnel stretched
before her for as far as she could see, a ghostly passage, as if leading to
the netherworld. With bated breath she froze. An arm rose, but the
trembling hand that reached out to grab at anything familiar was barely
visible in the dimly lighted space around her. She took a few unsure steps
backwards now. The only illumination came from windowpanes along the walls.
But the light emanating from these panes was strangely lurid, like the sky
before a great summer storm. Every odd shape and size one could imagine were
represented, these panes. Although they held no symmetry, they were about a
meter apart and numbered into the thousands, from top to bottom. She
ceased counting at three hundred.
She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there. The last thing
remembered was being in the lobby, walking to her car after work, and then
she was in that tunnel.
She approached a pane. The image in the glass was of someone looking
back at her. Stumbling backwards, confused, she paused for a moment, then
took a careful step forward, and began gaping with wide-open sapphire orbs at
the window, and on to the next window, and so on for several meters. The
images in the panes were not of her reflection but of other people. Some
were brushing teeth, others brushing hair, a few applying make up, while
three or four were vainly admiring their bodies. Some were nude. She was
peering into bathrooms, bedrooms, cars, living rooms, foyers, and other such
areas where a mirror would be located. All different people. She gazed at
them from the perspective of the looking glass. All different mirrors.
A hand reached out awkwardly now and felt a cold, squishy, fibrous-like
wall. Her hand drew back quickly with revulsion. A hand reached out once
more then drew back quickly again. "Where am I?" she mumbled. "What is this
place?" Bereft of breath, she fell knee first onto the floor, also soft and
cold. When she’d touched the blackness that was the wall, a viscerally
jarring sensation forced the wind out of her lungs, leaving her gasping for
air.
Still on a knee, in reverie, she attempted to retrace her steps,
frenetically reviewing everything before it had all changed, but her thoughts
were a blur.
Standing up, she straightened her skirt and took off her coat, flinging
the coat into the darkness that embraced her like a perverse dream. She
pinched herself hard. The fantasy was no dream. In a state of unbridled
terror, she began running like a crazed woman, clutching her briefcase to her
chest like a child would a security blanket, a connection to the other world,
this briefcase. She tripped as she ran and stopped to slip off her heels,
letting them drop on the floor. Her attention was drawn to a small
horizontal pane, stepping forward and looking in: a woman was placing a baby
into a car seat. She turned to one of the elongated panes: the man on the
other side was brushing his hair in a bathroom, turning his head from side to
side, as if to insure every hair was in place. "Get me out of here," she
screamed, voice shrill pitch, then began banging on the glass with the
briefcase. Yet the face on the other side seemed completely unaware. It
didn’t matter how loud her tone or how hard she banged she elicited no
response.
Then, with one final blow of the briefcase, the window shattered and she
stumbled forth into the lobby where last she’d been. She straightened up.
Her head tossed left and then right as she left the building and crossed the
street to the parking lot. She got in her car, shut the door, and proceeded
to primp in the mirror. "Now where did I leave my coat?" She glanced down
at the rip in the hose at the knee and continued on to her feet, her hands
lifting off her lap in surprise. "Where are my shoes?" She glanced back up
at the mirror and was overwhelmed with the feeling that a face other than her
own was starring back at her.
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