I’m in a weekly writing class, and tonight we had one of those things where you’re given the first line and asked to make a story out of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It being so close to Valentine’s Day, all the options were romance-related.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Me being me, however, I turned it into something else. I quite liked how it reads, for like 15 minutes of short notice scribbling, so here you go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI love you too,\u201d, the reflection in the mirror said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Karen tried to laugh, but her rapid breathing made it difficult. Her head was swimming. She stared at the hammer in her hand, as if she had no idea how it got there, nor why it glistened crimson in the dirty light from the streetlamps outside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHe never loved you. He wanted to drive us apart. You know that\u201d, the reflection said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Karen forced herself to turn around. Her fianc\u00e9 lay crumpled on the floor, like a marionette who\u2019s strings had been cut. A wide-eyed expression of innocent confusion gaped up at the ceiling, as bloody matter oozed slowly out the back of his skull, framing the head with a dark, expanding halo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLook at me,\u201d the reflection insisted. \u201cLook. At. Me<\/em>.\u201d The intensity of the words caused Karen to drop the hammer in surprise. She looked. Her reflection, shining, golden, more beautiful than her in every way, smiled at her sadly, as if to say Yes, it was a terrible thing, but necessary, and it\u2019s over now.<\/em> Karen\u2019s breathing slowed as she lost herself once more in the pitch black pools of those eyes, so unlike her own, and stumbled dreamily towards the full-length mirror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes. Now, we can be together at last,\u201d said the reflection, reaching towards Karen. Karen reached back, fingers first bruising against the glass, then tearing open in bloody strips as the mirror finally gave way. Silvery shards fell away into the darkness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The reflection\u2019s smile became wider. Its lips parted, showing teeth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Something behind the mirror grabbed her arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cForever.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I’m in a weekly writing class, and tonight we had one of those things where you’re given the first line and asked to make a story out of it. It being so close to Valentine’s Day, all the options were romance-related. Me being me, however, I turned it into something else. I quite liked how…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"kia_subtitle":"Happy Love Day everyone!","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[8,23],"class_list":["post-776","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-filler","tag-writing"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/776","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=776"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/776\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":782,"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/776\/revisions\/782"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=776"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=776"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sarklor.ie\/blag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=776"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}