The Mirrors of Fate: Out of the Past

she says.

I hesitate to take hold of it, afraid to be overwhelmed with sadness, but when I finally do I realize the person is—was indeed her brother in the photo. The family resemblance is apparent straight away. But instead of giving it back quickly, as I expect to feel the urge to do, I hold the photo firmly between my fingers, compelled to stare into the young man’s face.

A high school graduation picture. He looked older and more mature than most.

He was probably around nineteen when the photo was taken. Through black hair and handsome dark brown eyes, I see their relation and where beauty translates as handsomeness in her family. His secretive, small, Asian eyes tell of what particular charm he must have had. Maybe, just maybe, his friendly countenance meant he was sweet and considerate toward his little sister. I find myself questioning what he was like when he was alive, and I smile to myself, barely realizing I am doing so.

“Maria?”

I look up at her anxious face and laugh a little. “Sorry,” I say and hand the picture back to her slowly.

Suddenly a horn blares. Finally time to go. Wonderful news for me.

“We need to get out of here now, sweeting. My bus has arrived.”

Without argument she obediently agrees. Within seconds we find ourselves back in the white hospital room, as quickly as we had traveled to the beautiful garden of our dreams. All is blurry to me before I can focus on the all-white furniture and walls. I breathe deeply and check to see if she has returned safely as well. Once or twice she had gotten stuck there before.

“Sweeting?” I check.