Allie was in her element. Places like these crawled with stories she could tell in that exaggerated tone where Amanda and her other friends needed to stare incredulous and in awe at the same time. Tiny oil paintings of swirls and shapes that probably depicted humans like Edvard Munch’s The Scream. Very disproportionate, and yet very funny. The smirk crept wider, head tilted into something curious when her eyes fell on the other visitors. A young woman, somewhere around her age, maybe not. Looked bookish, the type her kind used to irritate for sport in high school because back then she didn’t know better. The skater gal’s smirk became an apologetic smile while she browsed the rest of the shop.

The other people, some influencer who’d been recording when he stepped in made Allie’s nose scrunch. Not that she had much ground to stand on. She overshared pretty much anything, but to strangers? Yeah, not exactly worth her time if she was being honest. The other man, tall, broad shouldered. Honestly a variety of people around.

Allie huffed, her attention caught by the sudden clang of something clattering down. Maybe falling, she couldn’t quite say. The shrill voice of the owner ringing out with what she figured must either be annoyance or a default tone. Allie sidled along stacks of second hand books and some old Victorian-style oil lamp when she noticed the stand-up mirror. Decorated with an ornate wooden frame. Those classic swirls and cured oak. It glowed at the edges of the mirror. Allie paused, blinked to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and it did it again as if responding.

“That, ah…” She scratched her cheek, eyes trying to catch any attention. A vague gesture towards the mirror’s third glow, like a pulse that made her imagine she could travel through into a different realm. “Anyone else seeing this?” She asked nobody in particular, doubt laced in her usually chirpy voice. Her sneakers squeaked when she took a half step back, mouth open. Perplexed.