Take one normal enough girl who’s sure she knows herself and who she’ll be. Who skips through life with rosebuds in her hair and a sweet song on her lips. Give her a ready smile for her neighbours and a pair of shining, soft blue eyes. Dream her a bright future as the village baker, and swing a pretty basket of pastries from her arm.
Then one day, add a blush of blueish green to the roots of her hair. Sweep it slowly down to the tips as the days go by. Let her try to ignore it.
Sour her eyes to black and sharpen the teeth in her smile. Until the neighbours can no longer smile back, or buy her delicious bread. Let her try to ignore that too.
When her heart does break, gather the pieces and keep them. Being sure to miss none.
Send her a white cat to consider, that stands in the falling snow under a fingernail moon. But soot his fur at the touch of her curious fingers. When she turns her back, give her fires that light themselves for her ovens, and summer herbs that bloom in the deep winter. Leave her to ripen a while now.
Let the turning year stir her. Then take her to the river to bathe, and set the once-white cat at her door when she returns; it’s only natural she’ll let him in. Dust the word familiar across the tip of her tongue until she likes the taste.
Finally, get her a tight, ten-finger grip on her courage, and hand her the frame. Hold your breath as she places each shard of her shattered heart, and lifts the enchanted mirror to her face.
Lauren Everdell lives in Gloucestershire, UK. Her work has appeared in several anthologies, as well as Medusa Tales, Hearth & Coffin, and Neon. When not writing she’s usually reading or painting furniture, but either way never without Fable, her chocolate Labrador.
ubiquitousbooks.com
Twitter/Instagram: @scrawlauren
photo by Ion Ceban @ionelceban (via pexels)
Crow & Cross Keys 