The Other Side of the Looking Glass

He is already there when she arrives, waiting for her on the other side of the glass, holding a red, early summer rose. She watches as he mouths Hello.

"Hi," she says.

He holds the rose out toward her, touching it to the glass. She reaches for the rose but the cold, hard surface intercedes. She puts her hand to the glass, closes her eyes and concentrates. Beneath her hand, the glass changes. Gradually, she feels her fingers sink into the glass as it becomes warm and soft. Eventually, her fingertips make contact with the thin stem of the rose but she does not open her eyes. When she is able to lightly grasp the stem, she slowly pulls back.

Her hand clear of the glass, she opens her eyes. Where there was one rose, now there are two on opposite sides of the pristine glass.

"I have to go," she says. She turns away from the mirror and takes a couple of steps. She looks back and brings the rose to her lips. He is still there, waiting. She turns away again and leaves the room, an impish smile on her face.