I looked at the inquisitive faces of five donkeys, noses pressed against the window. Memory returned …the Gypsy woman, gesticulating, screaming. “You call my son an ass. I’ll show you an ass …”
I shook my head to clear it. My nose hit the mirror. How …? The shock made me jump so I banged my head on the roof of the car. This couldn’t be. I reached for the bottle of water in the console. Maybe that would clear my head. When I failed to grab it I see a… hoof!? Panic seized me and I … brayed? Hee haw. Five sad brays answered mine.
What’s that tantalizing scent? Grass?
Bile rose in my throat. Impossible. A flash of metal drew my eye. A medallion, somehow familiar, swayed from the mirror, its reflections mocking me.
One donkey took the door handle between its teeth and pulled it open.
I almost tumbled out but a sudden thought made me resist. What had the hag said?
“…wear around neck … seven full moons.”
The mirror broke off when I tried to get the medallion with my teeth. Thankfully it stayed on my nose. A good shake brought it over my ears.
The grass was good … I think.
I woke on the ground, ran hands through my hair. Hands? Hands! Must have been a dream. But, is that snow? Why is the mirror broken? Where did this medallion come from? Five donkeys? Five rusting cars? Five medallions on mirrors?
