Marin’s Mirror Garden Blooms — Under the warm buzz of the salon lights, Marin held a paper daisy made from last month’s seed catalog. Read the full story →
Under the warm buzz of the salon lights, Marin held a paper daisy made from last month’s seed catalog. She had cut each petal herself, rubbed glue from her fingertips, and tucked the flower carefully into her pocket before climbing into the big chair. Ms. Sol snipped around her ears with silver clicks, and the room smelled like lemon shampoo and damp hair. Marin kept touching the pocket bump, waiting for the right moment to add her daisy to the mirror frame.
As soft brown pieces drifted onto the cape, Ms. Sol hummed and turned the chair a little. In the tall mirror, Marin saw not one flowerpot by the window, but two—one real, one shining backward. Then Ms. Sol tapped the glass. Behind the mirror’s edge, in a narrow hidden strip, were dozens of tiny paper flowers: crooked, bright, careful, all made by hands that had sat in this chair before. “Room for one more?” Ms. Sol asked.
Marin pressed her daisy beside the others. The glue made a cool spot on her thumb, and pride rose in her chest like a lamp being lit. Next time you see the mirror flowers, see if you can spot the one cut from last month’s seed catalog.
