Flea Market Find

The mirror was broken, and she was happy.

She'd been walking home when she found her path--usually just a concrete side street set in between a vacant lot and a rundown house for sale--had been transformed into a flea market. Makeshift tents were set up in the grassy lot, and a slight crowd had gathered around some of them, their constant chatter creating what sounded from a distance like a long, low buzz.



Unsure, she stopped in her tracks. She didn't like crowds, didn't like how you could walk through one  thinking it's no big deal, and they suddenly converge, squeezing your shoulders, brushing their arms against yours, filling your nose with various odors. How you have to fight your way through but they force you to walk in the direction they're going; and how just as you decide that maybe it's not so bad they spit you out and move on without looking back

Should she try a different route today? She glanced behind her, and knew that if she did she'd be late going home. Sighing, she walked on, careful to avoid hitting the various displayed merchandise with her satchel. It's the middle of summer, but she was wearing a knitted hat which she pulled low, leaving just enough space for her to see. She kept her head down, not wanting to have to greet anyone in case she met eyes with someone who knew her. It was slow going, but she kept walking, staring at her sneakers.

"Oh!"

"Sorry." She mumbled. She looked up and motioned for the other person to go ahead of her.

The girl she'd bumped into looked at her from head to foot then back again, rolled her eyes, and walked off in a huff.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them she was startled to see her own reflection staring back. Because she'd kept her head low, she'd strayed from the road and in front of a stall, this one evidently selling mirrors of all shapes and sizes. She was standing in front of a full-length one, with a beautiful brown wood frame, carved with flowers. She quickly looked away and back at her feet.

Around them she saw pebbles, and she was fascinated. In the light of the setting sun their colors seemed to change from dull gray to burnished silver, with crystal speckles scattered all over. Picking a couple up, she studied them, but in her hands the colors would not change. She turned them over and tried to catch the light from different angles, but they remained dull gray.

The pebbles easily fit in the palm of her hand, but they were suddenly too heavy. She meant only to let them drop to the ground, but she found that her whole body had grown tense, and suddenly she swung her arm back then whipped forward, releasing the pebbles and with them the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

As the pebbles hit the full-length mirror, she watched her reflection fragment, listened at the strange harmony that the shattering glass, people's surprised gasps, and the stall owner's angry scream created. Beautiful.The shards rained on the sidewalk, driving people away, and then showing off bits of the sky, making it look like the ground had been cutout in parts and revealed a view of the clouds instead of rock.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the girl she'd bumped into earlier had turned back and was staring at her with eyes wide open and her mouth hanging, and she laughed.

She fished out her wallet as she turned to the still fuming owner. She glanced at the cardboard sign that was taped to the mirror and took out the required amount; it was a good thing she'd just gotten paid that morning. A crowd had gathered around her, and she could feel their stares, but she kept shaking, both from laughing and from the effort it took her to try not to. She figured that now the glassless mirror was hers, and she took hold of it, glad to see that none of the glass was left still clinging to the frame. Slowly, she lifted the mirror, turned, and continued down the street.

The mirror was broken, and she was happy.