The stranger is back. Her hair is longer and she's a little taller.
As you look around you recognise the shelves of a school library, colourful spines promising adventure and exciting tales within their pages.
The girl stands up to approach you, a worn copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban grasped in her small hands.
You can hear things this time. Footsteps from children you can't see outside.
The girl withdraws, knuckles whitening around the hardcover before she ducks behind a table at the back of the room.
A door slams open and you hear voices out of sight.
“Where is she?”
A wince.
Another voice. “I swear I saw her come in here.”
The girl curls up further where she's hidden out of sight. She doesn't relax until the footsteps reside once again.
Her hands are still wrapped around the novel and you feel that spark of familiarity ignite.
You blink.
And the girl is gone.
YOU ARE READING
The Looking Glass
Short Story- "You open your eyes to a mirror this time. There are more mirrors adorning the walls and, craning your head back, more on the ceiling. For a moment you think the kid is there, staring you in the eyes. But you move. And the boy in the mirror foll...
