Ingrid stopped in front of the antique shop. “Quaint,” she thought. “But I’ve never seen it before, and I’ve walked down this lane oh so many times. What is supposed to be here?” She had already turned from her thought and from the shop window ready to return home from her errand, when she heard a voice. “Come in.” She turned back to the door of the shop ready to answer the shopkeeper that she had no time to dally. But nobody was there. So she turned again to resume her walk home. “Come in. Come in. You won’t regret it.” Now this was curious. There was still no one at the door, but it was open. Just a little. So Ingrid thought, “Just a moment won’t hurt. Papa will not be cross if his bread is a little cool.” There was a stooped old man at the counter. He had a smile that was almost a grimace. Or maybe it was a leer. Ingrid could not tell. She just thought that he was not pleasant. She wondered if she should just leave. But she felt drawn to the place. The mustiness of old things. The damp and chill. It was so cold inside that she could see her breath, even though it was warm outside. But she heard the voice again. “Over here.” It had not come from the shopkeeper, but she looked his way anyway. His grin was even wider. Definitely not pleasant. And there was something in his eye. Ingrid could barely turn away from him. She turned toward where she thought she heard the voice, even though she was not sure the voice was real. She saw it immediately. A mirror hanging on the far wall. Ingrid was drawn to the mirror. Once she saw it, the rest of the shop seemed to disappear. Except the shop keeper. She felt his gaze upon her. She saw in her mind that his grin was growing ever wider as she approached the mirror. But she could not really see him, could she? She pushed the thought from her mind as she stepped closer to the mirror. Ingrid admired the mirror as she stood in front of it. It was a mirror that only showed her face and shoulders, but its frame was ornate. Hand carved many years ago she imagined. She touched the mirror frame and was shocked by the image in front of her. There she was, more beautiful than she had ever seen herself. And with a golden crown on her head. She was a queen! Ingrid lifted the mirror from the wall and rushed to the man at the counter. “How much for the mirror?” “A gift.” His was a deep, sonorous voice. One that could lull you to sleep or convince you to sell your soul. Ingrid questioned him with a look. The shopkeeper motioned with his hand toward the door and bowed. Ingrid did not think twice. She ran out the door and up the street. She looked back when she had gotten to the crossroad. The shop was gone. It was replace by the old livery stable. It was so curious that she had not realized what it should have been. What it had always been. But it was not so curious that she would pause for more than a moment. She hurried home with her new gift. “Here’s your bread, Papa.” Ingrid knew she could not hide the mirror, so she tried to rush past her waiting father. He would have none of that. “Oh. So you keep your poor papa waiting for his bread and come back with a mirror? A mirror that would cost a year’s wages to pay for?” “No Papa. It was a gift.” “A gift? From whom?” “From… From…” Ingrid did not know what to say. “From a stranger.” “Oh ho! Now, you’re taking gifts from strangers?” He reached for the mirror. “This could be stolen. Or worse.” Ingrid looked at her father. “It could be cursed.” Ingrid laughed. “No Papa. It’s just a gift. Just a gift. Oh please let me keep it. It’s so beautiful. And…” She was about to say that it showed her the future. “And, it is so beautiful,” she repeated. Her father frowned. Ingrid smiled. Her eyes pleaded with him. “Please.” Her father smiled. Ingrid was glad he could rarely resist her. In fact, she got him to hang the mirror on her wall. That night, Ingrid sat in front of the mirror and gazed at the image of herself with the crown. She had decided at the shop that it must be the future. She even asked the mirror out loud: “Mirror, mirror in front of me Is it the future that I see?” To her surprise, the mirror answered: “Lovely Ingrid so fair and fell It is your future that I tell Your charm and grace Your beautiful face Will be the undoing Of a marvelous king But if you turn from your great pride If you start to listen to the voice inside You may yet turn from yonder doom From bringing others into your gloom Your outer beauty, yes, it will fade For that is how we all are made But if your inner beauty grows With the seeds of love your Papa sows You’ll not need a mirror magic You’ll not have a future tragic The future that I declare to you Is ever shaped by what you do.” Ingrid smiled. She heard the words. The warnings. She knew that her future was in her own hands. Made with her own decisions. And she decided that she wanted just one thing. She wanted to be queen. Ingrid was not sure, but as she continued looking in the mirror, she thought she saw the shopkeeper behind her. She thought she saw him smiling.