N. Simonson & Company
The Only Real House of Mirrors
The Only Real House of Mirrors
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It's early afternoon as I hike into this high meadow and see the glacier. I've been alone on the trail for days but now, suddenly, there are carnival tents! She never said anything about this!
A barker sits in his cage and eyes me cautiously.
"What is this place?" I ask.
He points to red lettering on a bright yellow banner that announces: "The Only Real House of Mirrors." Smaller, black letters say, "Enter at your own risk."
"How much?" I ask.
He points to another sign.
"That's a lot," I complain.
Silence.
I pay the barker his fee, enter, and follow the tent curtains along a twisting passage. It's dark. Up ahead I see an exit at the back of the tent.
"That's it?"
Feeling chagrined I leave the tent and follow a path up towards the ice. I look back only once; the tents are gone.
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