Just an Ordinary Day in the Life of an Ordinary Girl
You pick up another object from the suitcase contents. It's a mirror, oval with a silver handle and border, carefully decorated with flower carvings. The glass is still perfect, not a single scratch or discolouring or other type of damage. Even the silver has been neatly polished to a shine.
As you turn the mirror around for closer examination, you spot an inscription on the back. It says, "To Amilynn, from Mother." You look at the reflective side again, looking upon your own mirror image. For one thing, you look tired - that's for sure. Your hair, worn loose, falls down in a mess of wavy strands, covering you-
Wait a minute. Wavy hair? You look again, closer this time, touching and lifting a few locks. You've had straight hair all your life, hair that went down to your middle, even - and these light curls barely go beyond your shoulders. You can't remember having had a haircut recently... and who could put such curls into your hair like that? You didn't think it possible in this time...
You place the mirror on the desk, leaving this mystery to be solved upon another time. Now what?
As you turn the mirror around for closer examination, you spot an inscription on the back. It says, "To Amilynn, from Mother." You look at the reflective side again, looking upon your own mirror image. For one thing, you look tired - that's for sure. Your hair, worn loose, falls down in a mess of wavy strands, covering you-
Wait a minute. Wavy hair? You look again, closer this time, touching and lifting a few locks. You've had straight hair all your life, hair that went down to your middle, even - and these light curls barely go beyond your shoulders. You can't remember having had a haircut recently... and who could put such curls into your hair like that? You didn't think it possible in this time...
You place the mirror on the desk, leaving this mystery to be solved upon another time. Now what?