The House of 1000 Mirrors
Long ago in a small, faraway village, there was a place known as the House of 1000 Mirrors.
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Long ago in a small, faraway village, there was a place known as the House of 1000 Mirrors. A small, happy little dog learned of this place and decided to visit. When he arrived, he hounced happily up the stairs to the doorway of the house. He looked through the doorway with his ears lifted high and his tail wagging as fast as it could. To his great surprise, he found himself staring at 1000 other happy little dogs with their tails wagging just as fast as his. He smiled a great smile, and was answered with 1000 great smiles just as warm and firendly. As he left the House, he thought to himself, "This is a wonderful place. I will come back and visit it often."
In this same village, another little dog, who was not quite as happy as the first one, decided to visit the house. He slowly climbed the stairs and hung his head low as he looked into the door. When he saw the 1000 unfriendly looking dogs staring back at him, he growled at them and was horrified to see 1000 little dogs growling back at him. As he left, he thought to himself, "That is a horrible place, and I will never go back there again."
All the faces in the world are mirrors. What kind of reflections do you see in the faces of the people you meet?
- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The Second Story Is I've Passed My Right on to You
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One day, Wilson was walking quietly along the road when somebody gave him a violent blow on the back of the neck. He looked behind him, and saw a young man whom he had never seen before.
“How dare you hit me like that!”shouted Wilson.
The young man said he had mistaken Wilson for a friend of his and that he thought Wilson was making a lot of noise about nothing.
This insult made Wilson even angrier, of course, and he at once arranged for the young man to be brought before a judge. There was nothing for the young man to do but to appear before the court.
Now, the judge who heard the case was a friend of the young man's father, and, although he pretended to be quite fair, he was thinking how he could avoid punishing the young man while at the same time not appearing unjust.
Finally he said to Wilson,“I understand your feelings in this matter very well. Would you be satisfied if I let you hit the young man as he hit you?”
Wilson said he would not be. The young man had insulted him and should be properly punished.
“Well, then,”said the judge to the young man,“I order you to pay ten liras to Wilson.”
Ten liras was very little for such a crime, but the young man did not have it with him, so the judge allowed him to go and get it.
Wilson waited for him to return with the money. He waited an hour, he waited two hours, while the judge attended to other business.
When it was nearly time for the court to close, Wilson chose a moment when the judge was especially busy, came up quietly behind him and hit him hard on the back of the neck. Then he said to him,“I am sorry, but I can't wait any longer. When the young man comes back, tell him that I have passed my right to the ten liras on to you.”
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Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
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Comments (1)
Thank you for your nice stories.