Another short story as a result of The Daily Post prompt Breathing Room: “An extra room has magically been added to your home overnight. The catch: if you add more than three items to it, it disappears. How do you use it?”
In a land far, far away there is a forest. In the middle of the forest, there is a meadow. In the middle of the meadow, there is a house. In the middle of the house, there is a room. In the middle of the room, there is a mirror. And there, in front of the mirror, stands a little girl. Looking in, smiling at what she sees.
Her grandmother and grandfather, her mother and father, her little white dog. They are smiling back at her, telling her beautiful stories and singing wonderful songs. And if she is sad, they tell her words of love and bravery, of tenderness and courage. And the little dog, he jumps around and tosses her a little red ball, so she could toss it back.
It is a mirror of memory. And every time she feels sad and alone, that little girl stands in front of the mirror and smiles at her loved ones. And as she walks out of the room, she always leaves three things behind – a brush, a cup and a bird. For, you see, this is the magic room, and it disappears if you add three more items to it. And when she comes back, she stands outside and whistles for the bird to fly out of the window and the room magically appears again. For, you see, it is a magical bird.
There is a mirror of memory. In the middle of the room. In the middle of the house. In the middle of the meadow. In the middle of the forest. In a land far, far away. And if you listen very carefully, you can hear a little girl’s laughter.