{"id":2580,"date":"2023-11-18T14:08:20","date_gmt":"2023-11-18T21:08:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2580"},"modified":"2023-11-18T14:08:20","modified_gmt":"2023-11-18T21:08:20","slug":"angle-of-incidence","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/11\/18\/angle-of-incidence\/","title":{"rendered":"Angle of Incidence"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Start your story with someone buying a cursed \u2014 or perhaps blessed \u2014mirror from an antiques store.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The glass was scratched, the silvering was cloudy, and the gilded wood frame was so ornate as to be ridiculous and fragile. Acanthus leaves intertwined with vines and flowers in a style that fell somewhere between baroque and rococo. It was the perfect amount of kitsch to brighten up the hallway. While mostly useless as a mirror, it suited her purposes perfectly. She had<\/em> to have it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx turned the tag over. It was certain to be priced out of her range. She had a start as the price on the tag was only $20. This was an antique worth thousands, easily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She lifted it, careful of the wood frame, and carried it to the counter. Laying it on the soft pad the owner of the shop threw on the counter, she said, \u201cI think there\u2019s a mistake. This is worth a hell of a lot more than twenty dollars. I\u2019m willing to work with you on what you think is fair. Layaway or whatever.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took one glance at the mirror and shook his head, his wispy, white hair floating with each shake. The wrinkles around his mouth and eyes deepened as he smiled, his face a roadmap of expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the right price. It\u2019s here on zero commission, and the owner just wants it gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx laughed. \u201cIs it cursed or something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The avenues of mirth on the old man\u2019s face deepened even more as his smile grew. \u201cNothing like that. He just says it\u2019s too painful to look at since his wife died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, that\u2019s\u2026sad. I\u2019ve got the perfect spot for it where it can bring joy again.\u201d She asked if he could turn it over so she could look for a maker\u2019s mark. It was so worn as to be hard to see, but she could make out \u201cM\u00fcnchen<\/em>.\u201d Alyx handed the old man two twenties and refused any change.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As she hung the mirror in the hallway, light from the entry hit the frame just right, showing script in silver on one of the vines of the leaf-motif frame. Looking closer, she saw the words, \u201ccognosce te ipsum<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She took a minute to look it up on her phone\u2026\u201dknow thyself.\u201d She snorted at the silliness of the Socratic phrase, in Latin, on a gilded, German mirror. Since she was already searching the web on her phone, she tried to find some information about the mirror.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She found plenty on of information on the late baroque and early rococo period in German furnishings and design, but nothing that could point her closer to the origin of her mirror. A science article about how mirrors worked caught her eye, and she surprised herself by reading through the entire thing, remembering middle school and \u201cthe angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection.\u201d The way that what one saw looking directly in the mirror was not what one would see when looking from a different angle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx stepped back to admire her new prize. Her reflection caught her eye. It was far clearer than could be expected with the condition of the silvering. Somehow, she knew that the old man was going to spend part of that twenty dollars on a scratch ticket that would win him $10,000, money that he desperately needed to keep his shop open.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She shook her head to clear it. There\u2019s no way she could know<\/em> something like that. The whimsy of the mirror was making her daydream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she looked in the mirror the following morning, her reflection was as clouded as she expected. Convinced that she\u2019d been daydreaming, she left to face the day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Work was stressful, with many customers convinced they knew better than her how to do her job. One of her coworkers, Shirah, asked her to join her for dinner. It was obvious to Alyx that something was bothering her, but she was in too foul of a mood to be of any help. She begged off and left as soon as she could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hadn\u2019t thought about the mirror until she neared the antiques shop. On a whim, she parked and walked in to talk to the proprietor. His smile beamed, his eyes sparkling as she walked in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan I give you a hug, dear? You saved my bacon yesterday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course, you can, and what do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He hugged her and stepped back, holding her shoulders. \u201cI don\u2019t usually get tips, and you gave me a twenty\u2026anyway, I stopped to pick up bread at the convenience store, and thought, \u2018Why not?\u2019 I bought a scratch ticket and won ten grand!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx tried to hide the shock she felt. \u201cWow! That\u2019s great.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI was in risk of foreclosure, all because I owed the last seven thousand on the building. With the winnings, I was able to finally close out the mortgage, and the shop is mine, free and clear.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAwesome!\u201d She gave his shoulder an awkward pat. \u201cAnyway, I just stopped by to see how you were doing and say thanks again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, thank you<\/em>,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx thought about nothing but<\/em> the mirror the rest of the way home. She was still pondering what it meant, when she walked past. The mirror was too dark, her reflection murky. She knew<\/em> that Shirah had taken her rejection badly and was in a bar, getting hammered \u2014 after which, she would attempt to drive home and die in a horrible accident that took two other lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Adrenaline shot through her system, goading her to action. She didn\u2019t know where Shirah lived, but the bar might be close to work. Then again, it might be close to her home. There were too many bars to search them one-by-one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. She looked into her murky reflection in the mirror. \u201cWhat bar?\u201d she asked herself. She still didn\u2019t know, but she had a feeling; that would have to be good enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Following the feeling, Alyx drove, a meandering trip through the city, cruising by bar parking lots looking for Shirah\u2019s unmistakable car. Her trip led her at last to a parking lot behind a bar close to work. Shirah was there, staggering next to her pink Pinto trying to fit the key into the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx jumped out of her car and put her arm around her. \u201cCome on, Shirah. You\u2019re in no shape to drive, let me take you home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGet off me! I\u2019m fine! You don\u2019t hafta…,\u201d she turned and looked at Alyx for a moment before recognition crossed her face. \u201cAlyx! You decided to come party with me!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her shouting had caught the attention of one of the bar\u2019s bouncers, who stood with crossed arms, watching them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry I turned you down for dinner,\u201d Alyx said. \u201cI could see something was bothering you, but I was too wrapped up in my own shit to pay attention. I\u2019m here for you now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlyx!\u201d Shirah leaned on her shoulder, the smell of liquor strong on her breath. \u201cWe should go to the club and get blitzed!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re already there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNuh-unh. This isn\u2019t the club.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBlitzed, Shirah. You\u2019re already blitzed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHah hah! I am! Fuck Kevin!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, dear. What did he do this time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe broke up with me \u2019cause I\u2019m a miberable…mibral\u2026miz\u2026er\u2026a\u2026bul bitch. That.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t I take you home so you can have a shower and a good cry?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t go home. Kevin\u2019s shitting his move out \u2014 moving<\/em> his \u2014 you know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx led Shirah to her own car and got her settled in the passenger seat. She looked up at the bouncer, who mouthed the words, \u201cThank you\u201d and smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

#<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alyx got Shirah settled on the sofa with a blanket and pillows, where she fell into an instant sleep. She walked down the hallway and looked at the mirror. Her reflection was clear again, and a faint light appeared around her, and she knew what was to happen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shirah would have a rough morning, overwhelmed with embarrassment. It would be the final straw. She would call out from work in order to go to an AA meeting and begin the process of reclaiming her life. Someone else she didn\u2019t know would make it home \u2014 safe \u2014 in time to save the life of their partner from an allergic reaction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKnow thyself. Angle of incidence\u2026incidents?\u201d she asked her reflection, as she moved about the mirror, changing her viewpoint and the reflected view. She wondered what it would be like to live with the mirror if she hadn\u2019t rushed out to pick up Shirah. She had a moment of terror. Every decision, every action, shines out and reflects off those around, sometimes impacting those far outside the initial influence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The thought occurred that perhaps the previous owner had made a choice that contributed to the death of his wife. Having that black cloud of knowledge had to be too much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No<\/em>, she thought, I won\u2019t live in terror just because I know how my actions affect others. I\u2019ll use that knowledge to be the best person I can be.<\/em> Of course, there was \u2014 unspoken even to herself \u2014 still a glimmer of terror in the back of her mind that would drive her every decision for the rest of her life. She knew now, that even the smallest incidents could reflect in harsh angles.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Start your story with someone buying a cursed \u2014 or perhaps blessed \u2014mirror from an antiques store. available at Reedsy The glass was scratched, the silvering was cloudy, and the gilded wood frame was …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,209,220],"class_list":["post-2580","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-short-story","tag-urban-fantasy"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-FC","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2580","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2580"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2580\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2581,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2580\/revisions\/2581"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2580"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2580"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2580"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}