anyone could see, for there was the floor, way down there.. . .
Snap out of it!' he yelled at himself suddenly. He was on the floor,
and that was nothing but a harmless reflection of the ceiling. It
would only be the floor if I was standing on my head, and I'm not;
the other me is the one standing on his head... .
He began to feel vertigo, and a sudden lump of nausea rose in his
throat. He tried to look away from the glittering quicksilver depths
of the mirror, but he couldn't.
The door.. where was the door? He suddenly wanted out very
badly.
Wharton turned around clumsily, but there were only crazily-tilted
bookcases and the jutting ladder and the horrible chasm beneath
his feet.
'Reynard!' He screamed. 'I'm falling! '
Reynard came running, the sickness already a gray lesion on his
heart. It was done; it had happened again.
He stopped at the door's threshold, Staring in at the Siamese twins
staring at each other in the middle of the two-roofed, no-floored
room.
'Louise,' he croaked around the dry ball of sickness in his throat.
'Bring the pole.'
Louise came shuffling out of the darkness and handed the hook-
ended pole to Reynard. He slid it out across the shining quicksilver
pond and caught the body sprawled on the glass. He dragged it
slowly toward the door, and when he could reach it, he pulled it
out. He stared down into the contorted face and gently shut the
staring eyes.
'I'll want the plaster,' he said quietly.
'Yes, sir.'
She turned to go, and Reynard stared somberly into the room. Not
for the first time he wondered if there was really a mirror there at
all. In the room, a small pool of blood showed on the floor and
ceiling, seeming to meet in the center, blood which hung there
quietly and one could wait forever for it to drip.
The King Family &
The Wicked Witch
STEPHEN KING
Illustrated by King's children
Flint Magazine
EDITOR'S NOTE:
Stephen King and I went to college together. No, we were not the
best of friends, but we did share a few brews together at University
Motor Inn. We did work for the school newspaper at the same
time. No, Steve and I are not best friends. But I sure am glad he
made it. He worked hard and believed in himself. After eight
million book sales, it's hard to remember him as a typically broke
student. We all knew he'd make it through.
Last January I wrote of a visit with Steve over the holiday
vacation. We talked about his books, Carrie - Salems Lot. The
