Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


April 24th 2017 in Microfiction

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,” she began. “Just don’t,” the mirror said. “Uh … who’s the fairest …,” she continued. “I’m not answering,” the mirror interrupted angrily. “… of them all … exactly WHAT is the matter with you?” she finished and countered. “You’ve been scrying,” it answered and she blushed. “You’ve been staring into water, glass, anything reflective … asking question after question. I’ve known for a long time.” “I … I just wanted to be sure …,” she stammered. “Well, I’ve had all that I’m going to take,” the mirror said, growing dark around the edges. “You’re selfish, vain, and your preoccupation with being the fairest is ridiculous; grow up.” “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears springing to the corners of her eyes. “You will be,” the mirror hissed, clouding. “You’ll be on your own for this next part, Miss Runner Up.” “Wait … what?!?” she sputtered. “See ya,” the mirror whispered, going dark. She began to scream.

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