The Mirror Window

13 Oct

The houses in the street where I live were built in the 1920s. Before that, the ground on which they stand was the point where countryside met town. Distant echoes of the rural past may be heard by those who listen to them. A solitary farmstead still stands at the end of the road, surrounded by suburban houses. At the end of my garden there’s a ditch where the brook used to run, long ago diverted underground to supply the local houses with water. Beyond the ditch lies an allotment site. All of this suits me very well. Brought up on the edge of town, I’ve never been able to decide whether I prefer the countryside or the city.

The first time that I walked through the door into the dining room of the empty house, I knew that I belonged there. It felt as though I’d already been living there for years. The view through the window drew me. It looked out toward the garden and the allotments beyond. Standing there, I could have been looking out at the open countryside. I signed the papers and moved in. It was some months before I found out about the mirror window. Would I have moved in if I’d known? On enchanted afternoons, the portal appears on the other side of the room. I’m drawn to that window too. An ancient farmstead used to stand here, demolished a century or so ago to make way for the new houses. The window appears for a reason. I know that I could open it if I wished to. What would you do?

The portal

The mirror window appears

All text and images © PSR 2015


2 Responses to “The Mirror Window”

  1. Mari Biella October 14, 2015 at 12:44 pm #

    Very creepy, Paul! Will you be trying your hand at ghost stories any time soon? You’d be wonderful!

    • Paul Sutton Reeves October 14, 2015 at 12:54 pm #

      Ha ha – thanks, Mari! I think I’m going to leave the ghost stuff to you – you know what you’re doing. I’m just riffing around photos. House of Leaves whetted my appetite, though…

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