The Writers' Ink Mystery!
When Dana arrived for the regular weekly meeting of Writers' Ink, she was surprised to find the door to the hall unlocked, but the room inside empty. In fact, the lights were burning, books and back packs were placed carefully next to each chair, but no-one was in sight. She sat down to await the return of her colleagues, but soon felt a growing sense of dread.
THANK YOU TO DANA FRIESTADT FOR A FANTASTIC SECOND PARAGRAPH!
The hall was too quiet. She got up and walked around. While going down the hallway, she felt a gust of air swoosh by her. She quickly turned. If felt like someone had just ran past her! Her heart started to pound. Where were the members? Dana continued her search through the hall. Maybe someone was in the washroom? She opened the door to the small bathroom and flicked on the light. No one was inside. Before she closed the door, she took a quick glance in the mirror. She couldn't believe what she saw. There they were! All the members of Writer's Ink were in the mirror. They were gesturing at her to come closer to the silver glass. Dana hesitated. Then she reached out to her fellow members, and her body disappeared from the bathroom.
THANK YOU TO MARY ANN STEELE FOR A TERRIFIC THIRD PARAGRAPH
Dana started thinking outloud, the way she always does.
"Who was the first one through the mirror?'" she looked over at tiny Barb.
Barb began to sob and splutter, "I'm sorry. I just came in here for a second. Next thing I knew, I was leaning into the mirror, maybe just a little too close. And, well." Her sobbing broke down into horrible howls.
"Hey, its not your fault!" Ordinary sized Barb put her sympathetic nature to work. "We don't know what happened to the mirror. It is working like Through the Looking Glass, for Alice In Wonderland. We are all in here together. We just have to prevent anyone else from falling through."
Patricia dumped out her suitcase sized purse. "Here, I have lipstick." She twisted the tube up and reached out to the invisible wall where Dana had just entered through. In what appeared mid air, she wrote in reverse mirror immage. "Help, we are trapped in the mirror. Don't lean in too close to the sink!"
THANK-YOU TO ERIC WILBERG FOR WRITING A CONCLUSION TO OUR MYSTERY!
Meanwhile, outside in the meeting area, Eric, late the first time ever, had just arrived to find the room empty. Yet, satchels, handbags, binders, back packs, and a hand cart laden with the complete draft of Murray's, The Iliad Revisited, lay unattended. Pausing briefly to assess the situation, he felt an eeriness creep into his mind, and his instincts told him trouble was in the air. That was it! The air...the air about him!
A sudden and musty shaft of draft waft passed by his breeze sensitive eyes.(a malady from reading, Who Has Seen The Wind, too many times) Definitely something was afoul. And then.... footsteps were approaching! Quickly, Eric crouched behind the filing cabinet and waited.
"Yoo Hoo!" It was the familiar voice of Sharen, "Am I late?"
"Yes!" said Eric smiling. (being a people person, he was already lonely and glad of her company) "But I'll forgive you on behalf of the others, chiefly, Sharen, because for some reason they aren't here. Help me look for them. They gotta be somewhere in this old building."
"Good plan, Eric, I'll start with the washroom, and maybe you look in the other rooms.Give me a shout if you find them."
Five minutes later, Eric having no luck in searching the other rooms, decided to locate Sharen and see if she was successful; however, when he found the washroom door open and the small room vacant, he called out her name several times before he realized that she too had disappeared. Then Eric saw the loosely scrawled message on the mirror.'HELP WE ARE TRAPPED IN THE MIRROR. The message shook him at first, mainly because a comma was missing. But then he realized that
perhaps the words were written under duress and quickly forgave the author.
It's all I have to go on, Eric reasoned. I'll have to take them on their words..
Pausing for another explanation, his mind suddenly recalled a childhood fairy tale about a magic mirror trapping an image. Could this mirror have the same power? A power which trapped the images of his writing mates and left them stripped of being seen? If that were to be so, then what could he do to release his friends from their silvery prison? Could he somehow communicate to them without the power in the mirror being aware of a plan to free his pen pals?
He began a frantic search for something to rap a message on the wall. Plainly Eric needed something to bang on the wall with. A Harvey Wallbanger perhaps? And he smiled at his misplaced humour while spotting the toilet plunger at his feet.
But what would he bang? Did anyone in the mirror know Morse code? He doubted that, particularly in this day and age of electronic devices, and that's when he came upon an idea. He would try holding one of his hearing aids on the mirror, and use the other to listen to any possible
transmissions through the heavy glass barrier. It's all I've got to work with, he thought, and quickly attached the hearing aid to the mirror with a wad of wet tissue. Then he tried out his handiwork using
the only method of talking to a mirror he could think of. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall...if anyone's in there, return my call."
There was a pause, and Eric was full af apprehension when suddenly he detected the crackle of a beginning transmission, Then surprisingly, a whole chorus of voices all in perfect harmony returned his call, 'Please release us, let us go'. Eric was elated. Sharen obviously had disappeared in there too and already had them singing in unison.
Eric sent another message, 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, give me your names, one and all'.
In short order, came the reply in the melody of Jail house Blues: 'Mary-Ann, two Barbies, Dana and Bruce, Murray, Sharen, and Patricia with her purse.' Eric was so take with the performance, he was waiting for the next verse before he returned to reality. So, Bruce is in there too, he mused, I wonder what he would have in mind for a sci-fi solution for me. Then it came upon him. YES! Turn up the volume of the hearing aid on the mirror! That was the key! And Eric's next transmission was:
'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Sing loud, as if in a concert hall'.
It didn't take long...within seconds, the combined efforts of the newly coined, Sharen Sayers Singers, released a bellowing blast of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus, and instantly the booming resonation shattered the rogue mirror into a thousand pieces**.
Suddenly, the members were free, and the washroom abound with jubilation. And when the members cheers finally subsided, vice-president Bruce, calmly resumed the meeting."If there is no other new business, shall we get on with the readings?"
**(actual count,1001, including Eric's hearing aid, which fortunately wasn't damaged)
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