I decided, during a nightly before-bed routine, that it was inconvenient to look up at the mirror while washing my face when I could just as easily look at the water I was washing my face with. I did this—it went good god efficiently well—and I went to bed.

Around the nontocking hours of the aged night, my ears trembled and I abrupted out of bed to the bathroom. Sure enough, the two were fighting viciously.

I could hardly gasp “Cut it out!” when the shards of broken glass barraged me and I was in there both strangling the jaded mirror and knuckling the fixtures of water.

“Look into each other’s eyes.” I eventually said after my gorging blood flood surprised the two.

They stared into each other for a full minute, and embraced into the beautiful ever after.

Another day I dozed off in a reclining chair in my house, and, upon waking up, found myself covered in dust along with the contiguous furniture. I stood up and saw that the mail, too, had piled up at the entrance. It was fate that had the meatman arrive at that very pivotal time.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re covered in dust,” was the meatman’s first reaction. I slowly told him what happened and waited for his insight.

He paused a moment. “I’d like to help you. Hmm, did you check your watch?” he offered.

4 o’clock.

“Did that help?” His eyebrows gave me a concerned frown.

I looked again. 11 o’clock.

It took all of my might to rip it off without taking my wrist with it, and, only after smacking it against the pavement and us both holding it down did we manage to squeeze out a confession.

“I am the oblong man-machine jelly docious! I will frum stair-stomping back for a cauldron to pop your children in!” it said this and then vanished under our concerted body weight. We looked at each other frightfully, as if to say, “What a hopeless omen!” and lifted ourselves up. We walked in silence towards the end of the street, him exclaiming “A mystery, this is” and I believe that’s where we said goodbye.

It was after hours

when I wrenched open the shutters of my window to peek at the maple tree which was presently undressing, flailing amorous and flirtingly under the sticky moonlight. But, quite unexpectedly, the shutters snapped on my nose with a sharp twang! and, indisposed to breathing through my mouth like a churl, I procured from my memory pepper, and proceeded to shake out a sneeze. The glass, smudged with reflections, began to laugh at me, and in my anger I made off with a violent Achoo! that sent it thudding against the wall. I jumped out of the window and in virile haste tore off my clothes while sprinting to the tree. We made love in a nearby grove.
The next morning it was 10 pm and I awoke in a dream where traveling minstrels gave up their horns and bell strewn pants for their daughter who had become a piano without wheels. I finally sat up in the dirt with tears streaming down my face.