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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Medusa you are absolutely crushing this story. Please keep it up :) Also, you might want to post them on your profile so we don’t have to dig through the comments to get to them. I followed you in case you decide to do that :)

Great job! Very well done!

“Patricia! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! I thought you’d moved away.”

Alison winced, but just a little bit. It was a small town and everyone knew each other. Even so she’d started to get used to this little routine.

She slowed her walk from the car up to the front door and regarded this latest neighbor who’d mistaken her for one of the previous residents of her home. Her small chihuahua jumped from her hands and ran to the front door, scratching.

“Sorry, I’m actually not Patricia, but I know the resemblance is striking. My name is Allison.”

The woman she was talking to took a moment to process this.

“Wait, you’re Allison, Denton’s girlfriend?”

Alison let out a small sigh as she replied. “Wife, actually.”

An awkward silence descended over the yard, broken only by the occasional yipping of the chihuahua.

It was hard enough moving to this small town not knowing anyone. Now on top of that she had to constantly begin every conversation clearing up this misunderstanding.

Most of the time they figured things out on their own and this was no exception.

“Wait, I’ve seen you on Denton’s Instagram and you look…”

Ok, here it came. The guys could go either way but women usually came down in one camp.

“Wait this is FUCKED up.”

And there it was.

Denton had used his wedding glamour to change Allison into his ex.

They’d been high school sweethearts. Denton and Patricia stayed together for more than 10 years after as well.

Denton didn’t have anything like wanderlust or ambition. He’d gotten an office job and hung with his lifelong friends, but Patty had gotten restless.

When she took the job in Boston and moved away Denton had been crushed.

Shortly after, he decided to transfer to a nearby city since everything in his hometown triggered his trauma.

It’d taken him several years to get himself better, and then he’d met Allison.

They’d fallen for each other fast. In retrospect it was a little weird that he hadn’t wanted his friends and family at their wedding, but she was happy to move to his hometown.

The minister had given them both their wedding glamours. As was custom in their religion Denton had cast his after the ceremony and she’d waited until the following night.

A major change after marriage wasn’t uncommon, but Alison’s wasn’t major at all.

Her height and build stayed the same, and she even kept her glasses. Her hair had darkened and her features had changed a bit, but she wasn’t even really worried about getting a new drivers license right away.

Even so, it was clear there was a lot more going on under the hood with Denton than it appeared. She was working on having the marriage annulled but she hadn’t completely thought things through. Denton would need to sign but he’d have a hard time doing it for a bit.

This neighbor certainly knew her lines. The next question came fast.

“Where’s Denton? I need to have a word with him.”

With a wry smile, Alison replied.

“Oh he’s right here, did you want to say hello? Here Denton, come say hello to your friend!”

The chihuahua yipped and trotted over wagging his tail.

Love it. Also making it second person instead of first… a reflection too… nice!

Does it make me a psychopath to admit that the first thought to cross my mind upon hearing of my Nan's death was to explore the attic?

No grief.

No mourning.

No crying.

Just curiosity.

I certainly feel like a psychopath. I don't know why those feelings didn't creep in. I loved my Nan. She took me in from birth, raised me, guided me, she is the reason I am who I am and the reason that everyone who knows me feels the way they do about me. She made me.

I should be wailing in my bedroom. I should be stricken with grief. I should be sobbing myself dry. I feel like I should want to do all of those things. But, for some reason, I'm just curious.

Nan's attic has been a mystery for as long as I've been alive. Her greatest treasure, hidden away just above my head. I'd often lay awake as a child, I'd dream of gold coins, of bounty from lands afar, or of ancient treasures from deep below.

As a I grew older, I thought of photo albums, old and irreplaceable documents, of letters from those gone too soon. Items that were sentimental to me, much like my Mother's letter to me or a photo album of my family from long ago.

Now, here I stand, at the top of the ladder, unfeeling but wanting, looking into the darkness of the old attic.

The dusty lightbulb hung above my head, with the chain dangling lowly and softly by my head. Without looking, I reached my hand up and pulled. A dim, warm light filled the area around me. I could see the wooden support beams and nails sticking through the top, holding the roof tiles on. I could see the pink fiberglass insulation that caused childhood pain around the ground. There was the AC unit sitting on a plywood walkway, acting as the desire path of the land, just sturdy enough to support me.

I stood onto the plywood from the ladder. I had to bend over to avoid hitting my head on the roof. It was low, it was dank. I took a step forward toward the A/C unit and looked around. Just ahead, 5 or so steps, I could see the light reflecting back at me. It was another lightbulb.

I moved to it, keeping low, going around the A/C. I stood beside it and pulled. Another dim blast of light. I examined my surroundings once again, but saw nothing.

Then, at the back wall, another reflection. Another light?

No.

I stepped toward the reflection. Then stopped. Movement? My heart skipped a beat for a second, I waited and watched, but saw nothing else.

I took another step and again, movement from the back wall.

I took two more steps, still crouched when my shoulder tapped something. Dangling. Another lightbulb. Without thinking, I reached up and pulled.

The dim light of the three bulbs was enough to now illuminate the whole of this tiny attic. And there was nothing. Nothing but fiberglass, roof nails, lightbulbs, the A/C...

...and this mirror.

I saw myself in the mirror. My hair was disheveled and clothes wrinkled. My eyes looked dark and baggy and my face tired. If Nan saw me right now, I'd get an earful.

If Nan saw me right now, she'd be worried sick.

If Nan saw me right now, she'd take care of me against my wishes, her tender care.

If Nan saw me right now....

I don't know why now, I don't know why here, but seeing myself and thinking of Nan, it hit me.

Grief.

Mourning.

Tears. Heavy, endless, sad tears.

The mirror. Her greatest treasure. It's not the mirror, it's what's in the mirror.

My bum hit the plywood floor as my hands caught my falling head, dripping, soaked with sadness. I felt everything.

I miss my Nan. I love my Nan.

Your heart is beating with a mixture of excitement and tension as you reach your hand towards the doorknob. After all, Grandma had always liked practical jokes, so you had your fair share of doubts that the secret, oh-so-great treasure she hid in the attic was actually a prized family heirloom. More likely it was something mundane or a gag object or a weird thingamajig she picked up at some thrift store.

But she had entrusted you with the key, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. So be it, you think. Even if it is another one of her pranks, it'll be worth it.

When you finally open the door, you don't know whether to laugh or cry.

In front of you is a mirror.

You stare at your reflection in it for a good few minutes, and shake your head, a tender feeling in your chest. Good ol' Grandma. She always had the last word.

It really does hit hard.

[removed]

Aww, this is cute!

Lol, I love this! Thank you so much for writing this!

[removed]

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

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I like this. Can we get a part 2?

Noone's allowed to have that much power!

I really liked this. It made me want to keep reading.

Part 1

"Gentlemen" , spoke the Director. A wide wooden table was host to a small group of men in suits. With the folders each one carried and their elegance, it would probably fool the untrained eye into thinking it was a normal corporate meeting by executives. However, the people sitting were among the deadliest in the country, and the contents in their folders would probably make a tinfoil maniac out of the average Joe.

"It has fallen into my attention" , he continued, "that a metropolitan journalist who goes by Clark Kent has been stumbling disruptively close to many of the people present in this room's more sensitive projects. How should this situation be approached?".

"This man is currently aware of classified information that no person outside of the Agency has managed to manipulate without having their lives in jeopardy. Clark Kent has to be dealt with as swiftly as possible." , said Jasper Thompson, a high-ranking expert on assasinations.

"Yes, Thompson, it is being worked on unsuccessfully as we speak. Mr. Kent has unwittingly rejected food and office drinks laced with the deadliest toxins on this planet, survived any attempted traffic accidents, and all direct physical attempts carried out in Metropolis have been stopped by his red and blue buddy. So, any ideas?" replied the Director.

The room fell silent. Seconds later, a low, yet indistinct chatter began. Whispers were exchanged, archives shown around, and the possibility of metahuman killers was thrown around, until the low-ranking intern who had entered to take away their finished coffees decided to speak:

"Have you tried fishing him out of the city?"

"As unauthorized as you might be to stay within this meeting, I plead you to elaborate.".

"Here's the thing: If you try to do anything actually certain to him in Metropolis, such as setting up a sniper, the boy scout will simply scoop down and save him. But what about cities outside of the big S' territory? What about a shithole like Gotham, where we could bet for having half the town on our payroll and on him?".

The Director stood silent for a few seconds, as he slowly processed the available courses of action. Quickly after, he got up from his chair, and started the familiar order barking everyone was looking forward to. "You've got a point. Richard, elaborate a distraction story to draw Kent into Gotham. Gerry, delay all possible transport so as to buy us time for the set up. Jasper, arrange an agreement with Oswald Cobblepot and Roman Sionis, we do not need their organized crime rings to breathe on our necks. I will talk to Amanda Waller a few days after this meeting, and we will see if her goon squad can handle the mess ol' Smallville is getting himself into".

This! It really drew me in

"No."

"Can I ask why?" Saint Nick asked.

"Shall we begin with the years of emotional, verbal and sometimes physical abuse? Made an outcast for something I can't control, something I am? The exclusion even by you? All I wanted was to join the sleigh team, but you let them convince you I'd be a distraction. And now... you come here, hat in hand expecting me to jump at the opportunity, as if none of it had ever happened!? That I should be grateful?!"

The old man was considerably less jolly as Rudolph shamed him, remembering all he could have done and yet hadn't.

"I can't change the past Rudolph, only apologise deeply for it. You're right, I have no excuse for the many ways I have failed you. But it's not about that right now, it's about the duty we have for the children of the world. Can you set aside your grievance for one night and help me, with the promise that I will deal with it properly?"

"No, I won't have anything to do with that miserable bunch of polar bear dung."

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" The old man asked.

"Yes, if you want me, I won't work with any of them. Get a new team, and let them know what it's like to be excluded for once."

"None of the others are experienced enough yet."

"Didn't stop you bothering me, did it? That's my condition, take it or leave it. Or go and see if those idiot elves can make you something that will work."

XxxX

"So, did you convince Red Nose to do his job?" One of the waiting reindeer asked. In that moment, Santa's eyes narrowed, and he suddenly understood the depth of his failure towards the outcast reindeer. His face clouded over with controlled anger, and the team saw the face from the distant past, the Nicholas who had once beaten Arius within an inch of his life.

"We are going back to the shed," Santa said icily, and none of the reindeer dared break the silence of the short trip. Once safely back in the shed, Santa dismounted, the waiting elves worried at his stormy expression, matching the rising blizzard outside.

"Take them off," the old man ordered the elves.

"But what about the delivery schedule?" One elf asked.

"I will be leaving on time. I just need a new team to take me. And while you're at it, modify the draw, I need a single leader."

"You can't be serious, you need us," Gallop protested.

"What I need is someone to guide the sleigh and the team through the worst blizzard I have ever seen. What I don't need is a team that has excluded and abused one of their fellows based just on their nose! And maybe what I need is a new fur lining for my suit, and to stock up on venison for next year. Keep complaining and I'll take it as you volunteering!"

"Sir, who will pull the sleigh if not us?" Willow asked. "We haven't had time to properly train the next team."

"Well, they'll just have to step up now," Santa replied. The reindeer went back to their stalls, some with grace and some with anger, while the new team was installed. When he was satisfied, Santa hefted the magical sack onto the sleigh, and guided the new team back into the driving wind and snow.

"We can't navigate properly in this weather," Dasher called out from the front.

"I know, we're getting someone else to assist," Santa said as he guided them not to the runway, but to another of the reindeer shelters, one some of them recognised. They pulled up outside, wondering what Santa had in mind as he got off and went back inside. A few tense minutes later, the old Saint reappeared, and behind him came Rudolph, his nose glowing brightly. Santa moved Rudolph to the front of the sleigh team, showing him the recent additions that would put him at the head of the team. Rudolph nodded and allowed himself to be harnessed.

With that done, Santa went back to his seat and gathered the reins, calling out to the team.

"On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen! And Rudolph, guide us all safely tonight!"

Sweet.

Where am I?

I held Odin’s leash in my hands tightly, afraid that if I lost him I’d lose some critical part of myself. Without him I would be truly lost.

He wandered and sniffed about, taking his time and making his mark. His tail wagged as his nose reached for every passer by. Each one greeted him with a smile which was then given kindly to me. Some people said, “Beautiful dog!” as they passed. I tried to smile but knew my features were locked in some stressful clench. I was watching the street signs as we passed them in vain. I didn’t know where anything was in relation to the address, so it was useless. Like having the answer to an unknown question.

Odin led me right and off of the main road. We entered a park with big, wide oak trees and many people wandering about. I wondered if Odin was choosing this route strategically. It was harder for Claudia and Jennifer to attack me if we were in a public place. Or maybe this was just the fastest way to, what was it again?

4966 Forest Road

So that I can remember. Was it because Jennifer didn’t know I knew this and so couldn’t erase it from my mind?

Odin’s tail began to wag as he turned left and then he suddenly lunged towards a squirrel that had ventured too close. The leash was ripped out of my hand and cold, icy panic grasped my neck. I chased Odin who chased the squirrel. Some people gave me a look and my cheeks flushed. I must have looked insane. We went around in circles, cutting sharply and following the chaotic path of a squirrel running for its life.

Eventually the little critter found a suitable tree and ran up the side. Odin circled the base of the tree, looking up with his tongue hanging out.

I picked up his leash, out of breath and feeling pathetic. I had been trying to carefully watch the route we took from the apartment but now, I looked around, I had lost my way.

Odin sat on the grass, his tail wagging against the yellow flowers. When I picked up the leash he stood up and skipped left. I followed him feeling once more like the frail old man who was losing himself. Would I ever feel whole again?

We turned down a narrow lane that led out of the park and into a cul-de-sac. The tree branches hung low and the sunlight sparkled along the dirt path. Odin’s nose was locked on the ground, sniffing intensely.

We rounded the corner and entered a quant looking neighbourhood. There were houses of many sizes, shapes, and colours. At the end of the driveway of a light green house surrounded with flowers and full, healthy looking plants a woman with long, wavy blonde hair paced. When she saw me approaching with Odin she smiled and ran towards us.

“Good boy Odin!” she said, as she came to a stop in front of me. “Come quickly, we need to get inside. I have defences up in my home but we are very vulnerable here.”

She looped her arm in mine and, her head looking around on a swivel, led me to her white front door.

The woman closed the door firmly behind us and swept her hand across the lock. The many locks clicked into place on their own as she turned and walked to her kitchen.

“I thought magic didn’t work here…” I said, watching the locks with a deeply furrowed brow.

“It doesn’t,” the woman said, her voice slightly muffled, “But, uh, just take a seat, I’ll explain everything in just a minute.”

I unhooked Odin from his leash and placed it on a table beside the door. There was a mirror hanging in the entranceway and I caught my reflection with a start.

I was not the old man. I was a much younger man, perhaps in his thirties, with raven-black hair and bright emerald eyes. My skin tone was darker than Keith’s, like desert sand. I touched my face and the reflection followed. The woman walked out of the kitchen holding a steaming bowl. She smiled as she saw me pressing on my face.

“This house is detached from this reality… in a way” she explained, but I didn’t really understand. “Sit down, please.” She took a seat on a comfortable looking forest green chair and I walked to the matching couch across from her. Odin happily jumped on the couch beside me and put his head in my lap. The woman’s gaze softened as she looked at him.

“It’s amazing,” she said, “Some things are so similar between timelines.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she said, “Odin is more than your dog, in your original timeline he’s more like your familiar. You share a very deep bond that we call a “soul-connection”. You and Odin, in many ways, are one in the same. If you try you might even be able to see the world through his eyes. You do that a lot where we’re from.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, putting my head in my hands. “Back up, who are you?”

“Oh,” the woman said, putting the bowl on the table. She pulled something out from her apron and started to add it to the steaming bowl. “My name is Klara. I’m… well I suppose the closest thing here is “wife” but I’m more than that. It’s complicated.” she sighed, “Sorry, I’ve practised how to explain all of this to you, I promise, but so much of our reality doesn’t translate here. We are also connected in a soul-bond, like marriage but stronger and more long-lasting.”

“Is that why I knew your name, somewhere deep in my subconscious? I called Jennifer ‘Klara’ and she did not like that.”

Klara laughed, her face brightening and her eyes shimmering with a clever thought I wished I was privy to.

“Probably,” she said, “And I bet she didn’t like that. Despite her best efforts you’re strong and you’ve always had flickering memories that connect you to who you truly are.” she paused in thought, “Has anything, unexplainable in the rules of this world, happened to you?”

I told her about Claudia and how I managed to attack her with a single word. Klara’s eyes widened.

“It’s just as I hoped,” she said, excitement sparking in her eyes. “It’s true that magic doesn’t exist here, but you and I don’t really exist here either. Our original bodies are still in our timeline. This means that your mind is still linked to our world where magic is your speciality. If someone is a powerful enough spell-caster, like yourself, then I hoped that link could be used. I was able to do it so I hoped you would be able to as well. I’m happy I was right. Shelia will be so pleased.”

“Who is Shelia?”

“Our daughter,” Klara said, “She’s been the one sending you messages here. Jennifyiar and Claudia have infiltrated your wife and daughter’s bodies in this timeline.” she met my eyes, “If you were wondering, yes, somewhere in the vast universe you are an old man with Altzheimers. But not where you’re from. I guess in a way where you’re from you are an old man… but we age differently. That’s why you look so much younger inside my house and in your OG world, despite being the same age as this ‘Keith’ person.” She handed me the steaming bowl. It smelled like plants and dirt. “Drink that, and I’ll explain the next part of the plan. We don’t have much time.”

-End Part 7

that is so kind of you to say, thank you!

Wow, the prompt story in the post is beautiful, I felt like a part of that universe almost instantly.

[deleted]

Thank you! This makes me really happy, it's the "effect" I was going for. I wanted it to feel confusing and have both "realities" be plausible. I appreciate you so much, hope you're having a wonderful day.