Matt pulled up to the last house on the block. It was a nice, well-care-for two story cookie cutter home, just like the last fifty. But his true prize sat in front of the house. For there, stacked upon tables and tables were all the things those homeowners didn’t want. He parked his car on the street and walked his way through the garage sale.
After about twenty minutes, in which time he managed to pick up a lamp, he spotted a neat pair of glasses on the table. They were both retro and modern at the same time, almost like something the Men in Black would wear. He picked them up and tried them on and found they fit perfectly. As he looked around though, he noticed something odd. Everybody had a slightly different look to them. They didn’t look any different, yet their body language seemed to change as he lowered the glasses and raised them back up.
The mother, watching over the garage sale with her cash box, seemed to shine. Everything about her exuded goodness, kindness. Motherly intent. The man riffling through the old vinyl records had an air of cynicism. He almost looked like he was preparing to take the records and run. And so it was for everybody there. He took the glasses off, certain that this was the one thing he wanted to buy. He left the lamp on the table, took the glasses to the mother and bought them for $2. Her smile seemed more real somehow as she waved goodbye.
Back in his car, he drove back home without incident. His kids greeted him at the door as he shared the spoils. Sally got a baseball bat. Krystyn received a small doll. He placed the vase he had found earlier beneath the mirror in the entryway, and went to find his wife. As he crossed the living room to the kitchen, he put the glasses on, eager to show his wife. Entering the kitchen, however, he froze.
For there before him was the most vile, repulsive aura he had seen that day. Kneading dough for tonight’s bread, her every motion seemed to communicate anger. Her cheeks seemed gaunt, her kneading resembling the act of strangling a man. Horrified, he removed the glasses, and cleared his throat. His wife turned, suddenly the person he had always known.
“Hey sweetie, how was the yard sale?” Matt tried to ignore the sight he had just seen and went to embrace his wife as she continued kneading. “Just fine, dear. I got a vase for those flowers; it’s in the entryway.”
He felt the grin even if he couldn’t see it. “Excellent, I’ll get those all situated once I’m done here. Matt kissed her cheek and went to their room. He pulled the glasses out of his pocket and placed them on the top shelf in the closet. He tried to reason through what he’d seen, wondering what it meant.
He thought of his relationship with his wife. Every fight, every argument. Their differences, their hopes and dreams that didn’t match up. On a whim he retrieved the glasses from the shelf, placing them on his face and looking in the mirror. And there, staring back at him, was another sinister character, the mirror image of his wife. He then realized that the appearance of each person wasn’t an overall rating of good or evil.
It was a measure of how good they were in the place they currently stood.
MrZakGuy 