Hall of Mirrors (or A Mansplainer’s Just Desserts)

“Well actually…” 

Breathy whistles of calliope music swallowed his words. 

“Come,” a silken voice commanded from the darkness. Swirling, slithering white-gloved hands led him forward. An impuissant marionette, he followed.

Behind him, a closing door’s click ushered a silence so complete his ears ached.

Released, he clawed at slippery surfaces searching for an exit, mocked by grotesque reflections of himself. 


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Unearthed

Acacias, adorned in gold, bob heavy heads to a koolbardi’s caroling call. A raven, scratching at freshly turned soil, unearths Marco’s watch. The koolbardi swoops, screeching. A clash of beaks. A storm of feathers.

Silence.

Gingerly, Gina grabs her shovel.


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Exit, Night

Night enters, rudely awakening fear while light peeks tentatively from other rooms. Fate reaches for the one match still housed within its book, lone survivor of smoking years. Phosphorus flowers into flame, snatching at the candle. Vanquished, darkness slinks away.