Write four lines of prose about: the mirror.
Miles had a much better night last night and seems to be on the road to recovery. Huge relief. Max's cold is still lingering but I'm hopeful that the warmer weather and more outdoor time will help him out.
I didn't wake up with a sore throat this morning, which gave me hope. But my voice felt a little strained for most of the day and I got pretty congested after getting home from work.
Pretty sure my body is waiting for me to relax Saturday night/Sunday morning, at which point it will allow this illness to knock me on my ass.
Doing what I can to prevent that.
"Oh my God, what foul magic is this?" the actress screamed, flinging the hand mirror across the room - where it landed, rather disconcertingly, safe and sound on a small, red cushion.
"The Mirror of Minerva does not show exterior beauty," the old crone said with a grin that revealed three missing teeth (those remaining were yellowed and jutting in every direction), "only inner beauty."
"Oh, then I'm sure when you gaze into it you must be nearly blinded by your magnificence, is that it?"
"Oh no, dearie," the crone cackled, "I can assure you that I am just as hideous on the inside!"