A heartwarming short story
A magical find in a dusty shop reflects new outlook to Ellen’s life
It all began on a Monday. Ellen sat in front of the mirror, rubbing Nivea into her skin as quickly as she could, trying not to look too long at the sombre, sorrowful, woman staring back at her.the mirror told her different things each time she looked into it. It told her she was fat. Ugly. But even if it didn’t, that was how she felt, unwanted and unloved.
The sun beamed through the window, shining a spotlight on her dressing table and she hurriedly pushed back her stool, not wanting to see the brightness of the light illuminating every single wrinkle. Somehow, she must have knocked the table because the mirror wobbled and swayed before it crashed onto the laminate floor, smashing into a thousand pieces that glinted while dust motes danced gleefully around the glittering fragments. It was, much like her life, a mess.
She was late for work, of course she was.a sliver of glass had pierced her finger dripping blood onto her crisp white shirt and she’d had to change before calling into the shop near the bus stop for a pack of plasters on the way.
“Is that…” Scott raised his eyebrows questioningly at her hand as he passed her desk,“mr Bump?”
“it was all they had.” Ellen felt her cheeks glow red so she hurried to the loos and splashed cold water on her face. There was something about Scott that reduced her to a mono symbolic idiot. He was just so…. hot, but ever since he’d joined the firm last month Ellen had barely uttered two words to him. She didn’t know what to say.who to be.
The toilet door clicked open before banging shut and, still hunched over the sink, Ellen could see a bright swirl of colours out of her peripheral vision and she knew Lydia was standing beside her. Ellen straightened her spine and Lydia handed her a rough paper towel that began to disintegrate as she dried her skin.
“He likes you,” Lydia says.
Ellen shrugged, a hundred questions poised on the tip of her tongue.
Why would he?
How do you know?
What should I do?
But she felt ridiculous seeking the advice of a younger woman and so she swallowed down the words she could not say and let her sensible Clarke’s shoes carry her back to her desk.
The morning passed long and slow.at one o’clock everyone stood and surged towards the door. Scott hesitated beside her desk.“we’re going to the pub. Do you want to come?”
Ellen tugged the sleeves of her navy cardigan down over her hands, trying to cover the ridiculous plaster.
“I’ve got plans, thanks,” her voice a squeak. She caught Lydia’s frown of disapproval so she rummaged in her handbag until they were all gone and she was alone.
Rain threw itself at the window and Ellen told herself it was lucky she stayed inside. She caught up with social media while she ate her sandwich at her desk. On Facebook her old school friends are all married with children by now. There were photos of a class reunion. Everyone older but instantly recognisable. She hadn’t been invited.there was a hollowness inside of her so she forced another bite of her ham and cheese and tried to fill the gap but the bread was dry and it stuck in her throat along with her sadness and her loneliness.
She shut the app and opened another but over on Twitter the world was shouting at each other.whatever happened to #Bekind? She switched to Intagram. Her feed was a real mishmash. Women encouraging her to eat better, to drink more water, to love herself just as she is. Other accounts coaxed her towards light rings, the right filters, telling her that titling her chin at the right angle would literally change her life. She skimmed through new posts.the yoga woman twisted her body into another headstand on the beach, the sky behind her streaked with fiery reds and oranges. #bodyconfidence. She closed her eyes and wished for a confidence like that just as lightning pierced the dark sky outside of the window.
The bus broke down on the way home and Ellen had to get off four stops early. there was another whip of lightning, a rumble of thunder. Cold rain trickled down her neck, bounced off the pavement. Down a side street she could see a shop sign – Treasure & Trinkets
– so she darted inside. It smelled fusty, the light was dim. For a second, she let her eyes adjust to the gloom before she stepped forward.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
Ellen jumped as a white-haired man appeared from nowhere. Immediately she felt guilty for dripping rain onto his floor when she had no intention of buying anything.
“No… my bus broke down and it’s raining and...”
“Something drew you here. there’s something you need. People don’t find this shop, it finds them.”
Ellen didn’t understand. “sorry. I should go.” But as she made her way back to the door she saw it. a beautiful gilded mirror, Instagram worthy. She hesitated, fingers gently touching its ornate frame.
“Give it a smile and it will always smile back at you,” the man said.
Ellen felt the corners of her mouth lift and she saw something in her reflection she had never seen before. She looked almost pretty. In that moment Ellen felt a warm glow as though this wasn’t just a mirror, it was a friend.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
The man carefully wrapped it. “bring it back when you don’t need it anymore.”
On Tuesday Ellen dressed in her usual navy skirt and cardigan. Sat at her dressing table to apply cream her face. She leaned in to her reflection. were her crows feet finer? Her skin dewy? She looked as though she had an Instagram filter on. She thought the grandness of the mirror was making her feel more than she was but still she sat a little straighter and when she’d finished her cleansing routine she opened her drawer and lifted out the make-up she rarely wore and coated her lips with a shimmering pink, her lashes chocolate brown.
“You look different?” Scott said as he passed her desk. Ellen gave a knowing
Give it a smile, it will always smile back at you
smile but still, she wasn’t convinced he really liked her, could really like her .again, she didn’t accept his lunchtime invitation to the pub. On Wednesday, Ellen got up an hour early and sat in front of her mirror curling her hair before pinning it up, letting tendrils escape around her neck. Each time she looked at herself she felt her confidence grow.“mirror, mirror, on the wall.who’s the fairest of them all?” she said in her head but she was sure the mirror whispered,“you are.” She smiled at it and it smiled back.
“Your hair looks lovely,” Scott said. “Would you like a drink at lunch time?”
Ellen still didn’t feel quite ready. Instead she went shopping for new outfits choosing textures and colours she wouldn’t usually have chosen. None of them navy.at home she tried them all on in front of her mirror and her mirror self smiled and told her she looked #Bodyconfident.
On Thursday, Scott hovered by Ellen’s desk but when she looked questioningly at him he blushed and walked away. Lydia mouthed “he likes you” across to her and this time Ellen didn’t shrug or question why. Instead she felt a curl of possibility begin to unfurl inside of her.
On Friday morning Ellen practiced what she wanted to say in the mirror, her new confident self encouraging her. She held her courage tightly in both hands all the way to work. In the office Ellen took a deep breath before she sashayed up to Scott’s desk on totally impractical heels and asked him out for lunch.
“You’ve changed,” Lydia laughed later and Ellen had. Not for Scott though, but for herself. A year later she was packing her things ready to move in with him. His flat was smaller than hers, she couldn’t take everything. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror and it seemed to give a almost imperceptible nod.
An “I’ve done my job – you don’t need me anymore.”
Ellen didn’t know whether she’d be able to find the shop again and while she trudged along the side streets, mirror heavy and awkward in her arms, a storm began. Lightning cracked, thunder growled and then there it was,treasures & Trinkets. She stepped inside, it was still gloomy. Still smelled musty.
“Hello.” She smiled at the old man behind the counter.“i’ve bought this back…” she trailed off. He wasn’t looking at her, instead studying something over her shoulder. She turned. Her eyes sweeping over the melancholy woman with the straight lips and the rounded shoulders who looked as though she wanted to disappear.
“Hello. I don’t suppose you’re looking for a mirror are you?” Ellen held it out.
“I’m not looking for anything. I’m just sheltering from the rain. Oh!”
The woman glanced at her reflection, her fingers fluttering to her face, her eyes lighting up.“give it a smile and it will always smile back at you.” Ellen said kindly as she passed it to the lady.
Ellen felt a pang as she walked away from the shop, the mirror but she didn’t need it anymore. Scott thought she was beautiful and he loved her but more importantly, she felt beautiful inside and out. She loved herself too.the clouds parted, the sky a brilliant blue. Ellen threw one last glance behind her at the shop but it had disappeared.