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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#225: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

From Narcissus falling in love with his own reflection to the speaking mirror in Snow White, mirror images have always been a popular motif in literature, commonly used to introduce questions of identity or self-consciousness. But they can also be used to create a split between reality and illusion: is what we see really the truth, or are our eyes — or indeed minds — playing tricks on us? Taken one step further, one might even argue that texts themselves are a reflection of their author and the world they inhabit.


This week’s prompts invite you to reflect (pardon the pun) on topics of self-image, twisted realities, and outer appearance that may or may not capture what’s going on beneath the surface.

This week's prompts

Start your story with someone buying a cursed — or perhaps blessed —mirror from an antiques store.

Fantasy – 74 stories

Write a story about someone trying to paint (or otherwise create) a self-portrait.

Character – 66 stories

Write a story about someone coming across their doppelganger.

Mystery – 48 stories

Write a story about a character who one day notices that their reflection has taken on a life of its own.

Fantasy – 50 stories

Set your story in a house of mirrors and make the atmosphere increasingly eerie.

Horror – 42 stories

Stories

“The Portrait of Emma” by Meg Lagares

Submitted to Contest #225

“Just when I thought my life could not get any worse than it already is,” I thought to myself as I wailed into my pillow, “How could Mrs. Johnson assign us this project? A self-portrait! I don’t want to draw myself. I hate my own face." Everyone at school calls me ‘pimple girl’ or ‘bunny nose, Nancy’ Only I could have this kind of luck, especially in what used to be my absolute favorite subject at school. All the last semester, I couldn’t wait until I got to go into Mrs. Johnson’s art class. Some kids don’t even call her Mrs. Johns...

2 comments 2
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“I am my Own Muse” by Quinn Bonds

Submitted to Contest #225

!Author's Notes! Before you read, please note that I am Canadian. I use the British English spelling of words. They are not spelt wrong, they are just a slightly different dialect. I am also a minor and therefore not a professional just yet, so I am very much open to constructive criticism on my story. Thank You! "I am my Own Muse" Quinn R. Bonds Muses are known to be sought out and picked by beauty alone. But the artist will never experience love and an understanding of their anatomy to an intimate level like muse knows. The artist is ...

3 comments 3
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“Captured by Grace” by Kasie Gilbert

Submitted to Contest #225

One slow moving afternoon, Maren sat before her mirror. Her easel stood staunchly by her side, blank canvas awaiting her touch. The room was filled with the smell of oil paint, a heady aroma that was part inspiration, part challenge. The sun made patterns on the wooden floor, casting a warm, reassuring glow around the room. The gentle rustling of the trees outside filtered through the open window, the only sound in an otherwise quiet sanctuary. A woman with a raw talent and a mind’s eye capable of envisioning worlds within worlds, Maren foun...

2 comments 2
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“And Guest ” by Clara 'CC' Carlyle

Submitted to Contest #225

"Don't forget my fan brush this time," Brian yelled to his assistant. He planned to pack his own tools but he's been stuck on the toilet since before the sun was in the sky. Brian "BA" Amaranth- ARTIST- has an audition. When he auditions, he suffers from diarrhea. "Sorry, sorry, so sorry," An overweight, graying, chaotic woman opened the door to BA's townhouse. "Sorry, did you say something?" Jade didn't know about Brian's nervousness. Today was only the third audition that she would assist him. "Hello? Hola? Bonjour?" She called o...

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“Kyra and You” by Nyla Alimohammadi

Submitted to Contest #225

Kyra and You She sketched her ideal self in a nude pose and a second of her in a simple and simply undeniably cute dress. This pencil version of her felt like a mirror image. How strange when she was the mirror instead of every single person she had to interact with. All her life, she’d had to blend in with all her brain cells firing to remain that chameleon. No wonder then, that walking the halls of high school she felt that she could not hold any more information in her head. For the rest of her life. Growing up she was raised a boy, ...

3 comments 3
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“Pandemonium Mentis” by Ben Martin

Submitted to Contest #225

As of this week, I am 23 years old. I am going to kill myself before I turn 30, so I have 2542 days left to produce a great work of art and become a great artist. I will either die known or unknown. Here’s hoping I die known. I wish I could be complacent. I wish I could get a job, raise a family, and contribute to society slowly over time; but I can’t do that. I also wish that I could be content to produce art for its own sake, but I can’t do that either—my treacherous pride forbids it. I will either make a name, or I will waste away in an...

4 comments 4
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“Not Quite Right, but Perfect” by Landon Christianson

Submitted to Contest #225

"That's not it at all!" I throw another canvas to the growing pile of failed paintings. I throw my hands in the air and give up. I take off my paint stained apron and throw myself onto my bed. I bury myself in my mess of pillows and blankets. I only stir when I hear a knock on my wall. I look up but find no one at my door. I knock on the wall near my bed in a pattern and my neighbor completes it. My neighbor is Mrs. Carlile. She is a 87 year old widow that has been living in my apartment complex for as long as I have been here. We would of...

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“To draw what is lost” by Lyle Closs

Submitted to Contest #225

I hold a pencil to draw with. An approximation of God’s wand. Creation is creation, I insist, no matter what the scale. My room is freezing, the view of Paris rooftops apocryphal. Romance reticulated. Thoughts become noises and arcs. I, the artist, hesitate, put on one of my last vinyl records. Ludwig’s piano concerto crescendos. I wave the Faber-Castell 4B, drawing sounds in the air. Crashing chords, delicate trills. A waterfall of sound. The pencil lowers towards the paper, hesitates. A cathedral stone held aloft by a cage à ...

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“The man of the sorrowful eyes” by Venecia Alvarado

Submitted to Contest #225

As he crossed the threshold of the door, a storm erupted outside, carrying with it a resigned sigh from the twenty-four-year-old. Youthful years were exhausting too, he thought. Turns out, in a world where technology had consumed all fields, being passionate about art was almost unbearable. Avis considered himself a spontaneous artist, someone whose inspiration flowed at his whim. Rainy nights were perfect for letting his creativity flow. However, in his small apartment, he lacked a studio, so he was forced to work in the cramped living room...

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“In Pursuit of Being Remembered” by Katie Coffman

Submitted to Contest #225

Zac stares into the blazing flame in front of him. He’s always been mesmerized by fire. By the way the colors of white, yellow, and orange blend together in a perfect pattern to create something magical. “Zac?” Asks the man sitting across the beat-up wooden table, causing Zac to snap back to reality. For a moment he had forgotten where he was. Unfortunately, he’s on a date.“Sorry, you were saying David?” Zac hates this part. But it’s a necessary part of the process. “These zucchini crisps are amazing. Do you want to try one?” David...

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“Moments” by Elizabeth Sloughter

Submitted to Contest #225

Fifteen              I hate myself.              I don’t really, but maybe I do. I don’t know?              I had blond hair as a child. What happened to that? What color do I use for my hair?              Mom says I’m just going through a phase. That’s her word for every one of my mo...

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“Lily and Paul” by Tamás Pintér

Submitted to Contest #225

Lily and Paul (A self-portrait) The judgement ALMOST 22 YEARS EARLIER The safety rope slid past him like a black mamba and continued its journey 39 floors down into the abyss. What's the matter? He gasped, desperately searching for something to hold on to. The coloured door of the light box, which had been damaged and now is being repaired, could only support a few dozen of kilos, yet it seemed the only option. He tried to reach out to this embodiment of hope, but to no avail. He was wrong. For the last time. The falling quarter first...

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“THE EYE OF THE TIGER” by Debbie Curtin

Submitted to Contest #225

It is so much harder than I ever imagined. I'm just now trying my hand at something I gave no thought to over the years, ever. And now here I am faced with the demons scratching my back. "No excuses." This was my push comes to shove moment that was do or die, make it or break it, shovel the sh#t aka dirt, and the plethora of swears just finished off the stress of the moment. Why am I harboring so much guilt and hate? This art therapy is matching my pain. Is this how everyone trying their best to be a so-called artist starts out by kicking th...

3 comments 3
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“Stretch Marks” by Sarah Duffey

Submitted to Contest #225

CW: allusions to domestic abuse No matter how desperately she searched, Arianne couldn’t find the right foundations to hide the purple blotch under her eye. She pulled her blonde hair in frustration, exposing candy cane earrings and more bruised skin.“Jillian just made it,” her mom said from the other side of the bathroom door. “She put her stuff in your bedroom.” Arianne could almost hear her breathing, and the cracking of her knuckles as she wrung her hands. “We’re out here ready to open gifts when you come out.”In the bathroom, the s...

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“Thanksgiving Twin” by Amanda Cedeno

Submitted to Contest #225

It was midnight when I, Salina Wolfe, was in the bathroom looking in the mirror and hesitating. I am five-foot four in height. My hair is shoulder-length, auburn hair with side swept bangs to hide the scar over my left eye. My eyes are blue. I wore a t-shirt I received free at a restaurant that hasn’t been around for five years, black maternity pants with holes in them, and socks and tennis shoes that used to be white at one point and both have holes in them. ~What am I doing? Am I really doing this? Do I have a choice? Do I ever have a ch...

2 comments 2
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$250

Prize money

280

Contest entries

106

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Nov 24, 2023 EST

Won by Olivier Breuleux 🏆

Title: The Day Alfred Googled Himself

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

Prompts | Big Blue Hand | 2024-11

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