#179 The Brothel’s Mirror

by Stacy Chambers

In the parlor, the mirror waited. Magda visited it every night. She loved the way the cracks in the glass made things break apart and run together, making reflections look like wild abstract paintings. Magda could make these paintings into anything she wanted. In the mirror’s world, she was a warrior princess. Not like here. Here, she was property.

Magda snuck into the brothel’s parlor, locking the door behind her. She moved quickly for a girl who had been raped. Escape had to come tonight. She would will it. Was the mirror ready? More and more cracks had appeared over the last few days.

She traced her fingers over the breaks. A piece broke off into her hand. So the mirror was ready, too. Magda caught the pieces, one by one, stacking them near the frame. More and more light filled the room as the pieces broke off.

The parlor doorknob rattled violently. The Madame. Magda didn’t stop her work; she didn’t even turn. Instead, she willed the mirror to move faster.

A shoulder against the door, pounding. The Madame was as big as a man, and just as strong. She had held Magda down today. For the money.

The door flew open just as Magda caught the last piece. Now Magda turned, and she smiled. It was a smile of forgiveness and freedom.

The Madame hesitated, and in that moment Magda made her escape. Then the light disappeared, and the mirror was whole again. Except for one, tiny crack.