VANITY, THY NAME IS WOMAN

VANITY, THY NAME IS WOMAN

Sadie can’t pass a mirror without stopping to gaze at her reflection.

“You’re vain,” I tease her, but it’s more than vanity, it’s obsession.

First thing you see when you walk into her house is a full-length image of yourself. They’re everywhere – plain mirrors, ornate, large and small. No pictures, just mirrors.

Anyhow, I hadn’t seen Sadie for a week so I called round and let myself in. No sign of her, but all those mirrors spooked me.

As I opened the front door I spotted Sadie waving at me - from behind the hall mirror.

I slammed the door and ran.

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My house is full of mirrors too - perhaps that's why I had to write a story despite being in the throes of moving house! The two men with a van arrive at 8.30 tomorrow morning to move our furniture 50 yards along the road, and we've spent the past few weeks renovating the new cottage. Well, not new, about 150 years old, but it's new to us! And the past few days have been spent shifting boxes of books, clothes and kitchen stuff, and all the cr*p we've accumulated in three years of living here. 

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers - please forgive me if I fail to comment on your blog - I am by no means certain the internet will move as quickly as we will!