The Mirror

A 10-year-old sets out to unravel a mystery…

They say abandoned houses recount their past in the darkness of night – at the wee hours; to be able to hear the faint murmurs, you’d have to overcome all the chaos within – the tiny voices of conscience, the little flames of vulnerability and the most crucial of all, fear.

I don’t quite get those bewildering words, given I’m just a 10 year-old; the reason today I’m here, in our old, abandoned house is to find out why my family left it – what story it has got to tell; Mom and Dad are indifferent to my curiosity – I don’t get why; so is my elder sister.

With all these thoughts running through my mind, I start ascending the stairs; my eyes have now acclimatized to the darkness; I miss playing, sitting on the landing of this switchback staircase; oh, there it is – the mirror, Mom’s favorite; she left this one too; I stop to have a look at it, rather at myself, but…

I can’t see myself in there – why is there no reflection?

© chirasree 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Chirasree: you’re venturing out. a good thing. perhaps “reveal” rather than “recount.” perhaps “my eyes have now accustomed themselves to the darkness” rather than “acclimatize.” maybe “I stop to look at it, seeking myself, but…” which enters a slight twist to it all. anyway, good piece.


Great going Chirasree!


Short, sweet and leaves us feeling curious, Nice work.


nice microtale


Amazing work Chirasree.. I almost got the vibe of O. Henry in your narrative

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