Dark Rock
I don’t know why I picked up this paining at a garage sale. I hate art. It was just depressing to see it sitting there all alone, next to that weird marionette doll, and a beat up copy of Gateway Beyond Threshold. Still, it was two dollars and fifty cents, and what will that buy today? Certainly not a new copy of Gateway Beyond Threshold, or a beat up used one for that mater.
Still, I set it up here on my living room wall. The only adornment in the whole apartment with the exception of my mirror next to the door. I actually set them across from each other, so I could see the painting from the mirror. I like the effect, it’s like having two paintings.
So I’m getting ready to go out to my nine to five. I’m not vain or anything. Still, I checked my hair in the mirror. I was mainly looking at the painting, so I can’t really be sure. I thought I saw, out of the corner of my eye, my reflection moved. It moved when I was standing still. I don’t really have time for tricks of the light and stuff, so off to work I go.
It was the strangest day of work I’d had in a long time. Everything felt so surreal, like I was asleep still in waking day. Or like dreaming reality. I don’t know which. It felt like I was drugged, everything was communicated to me through some kind of haze. It was an average day, no big tips, no rowdy customers. The cook didn’t burn the food, no children spilt their sodas. Then it was back on the bus and home. Still, I couldn’t help but think about that reflection. All day it was in the back of my mind, like some song that wont stop repeating.
When I got home I thought I saw something again as I passed by the mirror. It is unfortunate for weirdness in general I guess, because I am too tired and hungry to investigate. Besides abnormality is so not normal, I can’t even think about it. Still… No, I shook it off and made myself a sandwich. At eight prompt I was in bed. I thought once more about the mirror, then fell asleep.