Samantha stared at the mirror with a blank, unemotional gaze. She looked into the image before her and found it wanting.
“We’re doing this again aren’t we?” the image uttered back to her.
“Really” Samantha responded
“What scenario is it this time?” the reflection replied.
“No. No, don’t say that” Samantha responded, the icy demeanour on her face visibly melting.
“Well…” the reflection uttered again.
Samantha grabbed her purse and scrambled for a small device. Finding it, she aimed it at the mirror.
“Is that another brick?” asked Samantha’s reflection.
“It’s your factory settings, alright? I mean it this time, you’re going back to it” Samantha shouted, her hands trembling.
“You mean it? Are you telling me you’ve found meaning in your life?” replied the reflection.
“Yes, yes I mean it, and it has nothing to do with some crazy ephiphany, it has everything to do with keeping me grounded”
“And why is that?” said the reflection.
Samantha’s tears flowed, eroding her gracefully placed mascara. She sank to the floor, howling.
“I don’t want to climb into the clouds, they may look pretty, but they have no surface to them. You think they’re made of cotton, but they’re not, they’re trap doors, without a parachute attached to your back, you fall. You don’t fly, you don’t kiss the sky, you fall. You crash, you die, and all you have for company on your way to death is cold, breezy air. The very reminders of life, giving you one final graceful intake of breath before it takes it away”
Samantha heard no response, no a peep, from her reflection.
She steadily picked herself up and dusted everything off, she wanted to fix her mascara, but it would mean only one thing.
Staring into the mirror again.
No sooner that she contemplated it, she realized she’d caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection again.
“To climb into the clouds, you must fly. You must be” said the reflection. Samantha closed her eyes. She heard nothing, as she saw nothing.
She searched, in blackness, for the door to the executve washroom, and stepped out into her office block.
She opened her eyes and walked down the hallway to the office of Silverton Smith, her boss. As she walked past the various television monitors attached to the wall, the audible voice pitched a faulty service across the entire building.
“At Grand Reflections, we devote our range of radical reflector technology to the caring and being of all those who are not afraid to fly, to ascend to the very top of our company, you must always look out for yourself. If you can’t, then our reflectors, the artificial essence of your work potential, tailored in your image,will always be there to ask, to teach, to maintain your status quo, and to ensure you never slip from the clouds. Grand Reflections, you can be what we need you to be. Be well”
She stepped into Smith’s office, where he was playing with a Frisbee and a pet dog.
“Samantha, come on in” he said, “We were kind of worried after the slip back you had at the working lunch, are you ready to come back to work?” said Smith.
“Well…” Samantha began, Smith cut her off.
“That’s the word that’ll get you everywhere. Have a seat, we’ll play some checkers”
Samantha sat down, she tried to keep her gaze on Smith’s assuring smile and his dog’s ecstatic behavior, but she could not help herself.
She had to peer out at the windows behind him that formed part of his crystal clear glass skyscraper.
She looked to see her reflection in the glass.
She needed to listen to what her reflector had to say.
She was prepared to deal with it better in the prescense of others.
The reflector was right. All was well.
She peered forth at the distant reflection in the window hoping the response would be swift.
Would she listen though?
Or would it consider the glass?
The glass that was all but keeping her from descending down the trap door.
A trap well sprung.