I thought I'd try something out. Since I write so much fiction, I figured I'd try out a new piece on all you Steemers out there. It's dark (like nearly all of my stuff) and long (like a great deal of my stuff). It's one of six stories that will be included in my third collection coming out late next year. You can find my other (fully) posted non-fiction story "Colfax Place" on Steemit here:
@bucho/colfax-place-a-piece-of-non-fiction-about-the-midwest
I figure if the first couple of installments of this one pique some interest, I'll keep posting up new sections daily. Per usual, all critiques welcome as long as they're constructive. I'll also kept a running list of links at the bottom of each entry so you can play catch up a little easier.
Mirror #1
“Dr. Cavanaugh’s Professional Mirror”
Created in 1978 by MedFirst Inc.
Found in 1984
Materials Used:
Sea Green Plastic
Medical or Dental Use
Type of Reflection:
Highlight Bodily Deficiencies
Normal Planar Reflective Surface
What You See:
The green plastic surrounds the circular mirror, then thins out and comes together, expanding gently toward the floor like a fat, singular rivulet of paint frozen in the air, forming a handle. Both the mirror and its placeholder are tarnished from time and scratched from use. Brassy spots lay scattered across the reflective surface, evidence of rot creeping in and making a home. This is what you see as you stare into the virus-like reflection:
Jaundiced skin. Brittle teeth. Plaque gathering itself inside your arteries. A slowing down of blood flow. The melting loss of tendons and ligaments between joints. The clouding of cataracts in the eyes. The thinning of hair, the shrinking of skin. Liver spots appearing as tiny specks, but quickly growing into dime- and quarter-sized blotches across your dermal landscape.
You see all this in the blink of an eye. The visuals are too much too quickly, so you turn away and find yourself panting in the dark of the room. Panic lights up every nerve along your spine; every inch of your body tenses up. For several terrifying seconds, you forget how to breathe. The darkness of the room begins to feel claustrophobic as if it were a heavy blanket closing in around you.
The light behind you dims while another blooms into brightness above the second mirror to your left on the next wall. You remember how to breathe and control it until you’re calm again, nerves no longer standing at attention.
A cursory glance behind you reveals that both the first mirror and its placard on the wall have disappeared. No glimmer shines back from the depth of the dark in the corner. You made your way over to the second mirror and read the information posted beside it…
Part 3 - @bucho/the-museum-of-mirrors-and-the-mostly-dead-pt-3-a-surrealist-story-in-serialized-form
Previous Sections:
Part 1 - @bucho/the-museum-of-mirrors-and-the-mostly-dead-pt-1-a-surrealist-story-in-serialized-form