Tim and Steve strolled down the street.
"What number did the sign say the garage sale was at?" Tim asked.
"3068. Let's see," Steve said as he looked at the numbers of the houses. "2675 ... 2677."
"Great, at this rate we'll be there by this time next week," Tim said.
"You're the one that wanted to look there for a new mirror. How did yours get broken?"
"My kid brother Mark and his friend were playing baseball inside the house. Can you believe it? Anyway, let's just say that Mark hit a line drive right into the mirror."
"Oy; that must have been a pain in the ass to clean up," Steve said.
"You could say that. It took me an hour to get the glass out of the carpet."
"How did Mark react?" Steve asked.
"He was surprised but then didn't seem to care. He said he didn't want to cut himself as an excuse to get out of helping me with the clean up before running off," Tim replied.
Steve shook his head. "Let's hope that kid never ends up working on a military base. He'd end up nuking us after slipping on a puddle of water he created playing with a water gun."
Tim shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh.
"Why not just get a new mirror from the store?" Steve asked.
"I'm not made of money. Besides, maybe they'll have something else for a good deal," Tim answered.
"Good point. Let's see, 2700 ... 2702, we're getting there."
"Yeah, in a year or two."
*
They arrived at the house soon after. The proprietors had set out several tables. People were looking through the contents of each table. Tim noticed that they had some furniture on the lawn that was for sale. Much to his elation, he spotted a large mirror between a leather chair and a coffee table.
Walking over to the mirror, Tim looked at his reflection and felt strange. For a few seconds, it felt as though he was looking at a different version of himself. He could almost remember a different life and world. Instead of choosing option A, he'd chosen B. Instead of taking history, he'd taken law. The sensation was both frightening and fascinating at the same time.
Shaking his head, Tim didn’t want to indulge in this. He had a feeling that if he did, he’d end up turning his brown hair as grey as his eyes.
"Talk about luck; that's perfect!" Steve said.
"Yeah," Tim replied, his tone hushed.
"What's wrong?" Steve asked.
Tim shook his head. "There’s something weird about this mirror."
Steve shook his head. "Come on, we didn't come this far to walk away empty handed! What's wrong with it?"
"It's like the mirror showed me a different version of myself," Tim said.
"It's a mirror; not a portal to another world. We’re not looking at alternate versions us who are thinking the same thing," Steve said.
"How do you know?"
"Well for one, neither of our reflections have goatees....