Lewis had taken his date antiquing.  It seemed the kind of sophisticated, adult activity that he felt would reinforce the fact that he was, in fact, a sophisticated adult.  Never mind that he knew next to nothing about antiquing...except that it was a thing sophisticated adults apparently did.

It was clear within the first twenty minutes or so that she wasn't really feeling it.

She was friendly and amicable, but it was clear that she was being polite for the sake of being polite.  It was the kind of polite that meant she wouldn't be returning his phone calls tomorrow.  For his part, he didn't make a fuss.  He played his role and continued the date as if it meant something.

He even went so far as to purchase an ornate mirror at the last shop they visited.  A mirror he'd probably never have even looked at on a typical day.

Lewis dropped his date off at her flat, insisted on walking her to her door (had to keep up appearances), and gave her a brief hug before going back to his car.  The mirror was wrapped up in the back seat of his small Toyota, making it impossible to use his rearview mirror.

He didn't even bother taking it out of the car when he got home.  Perhaps, he thought, someone would steal it and save him the trouble of pitching it.

The next morning, to his annoyance, it still filled up his back seat.  He had to go to work, and he figured he'd have to get it out of the car sooner or later, so he pulled it out and awkwardly managed to get it into his front door, where he left it leaning against the wall of his front hallway.

Lewis walked by the mirror almost every day for a week before he finally decided to hang it up.  He had bought it, after all...might as well make use of it.  He hung it up in the hallway and then largely forgot it existed.  It wasn't until several months later that he discovered its strange properties.

He had been running late for work, and in his hurry had spilled coffee over his shirt.  His initial annoyance at having to change was replaced with a sharp pain as the hot coffee burned through his shirt.  He was haphazardly unbuttoning the shirt while walking by the mirror when he stopped.  He looked again.  The coffee stain had disappeared.  Lewis finished unbuttoning the shirt and looked at his chest, where he found no mark or sign he had even had an injury.  Thinking himself crazy, he ran back to the kitchen to find that there was, indeed, spilled coffee still on the table.

That had been the beginning.

The power had gone quickly to his head, as power is wont to do.  He could change just about anything in his environment, so long as he was clever and could do it in front of the mirror.  The more he focused, the more accurate the results were.  He imagined that he was holding the deed to a mansion that was for sale downtown.  He found that not only was this the case, but the mirror had taken care of all the pesky details that would have otherwise conflicted with this.  He imagined his bank account filled to the brim with money.  Lewis imagined a whole new life for himself.  

It was at this point that he decided to test the limits of his new found power.  He stood at the mirror in his underwear.  Not horrible looking by any means, but definitely not an attractive man by most standards.  His hair, oily and unkempt, fell listlessly down on his forehead.  a paunch belly accentuated knobby knees and elbows.  His face was rather round and a bit pudgy, though fairly average overall.  He looked himself over disdainfully, and begin to concentrate.

First his stomach started shrinking, as if someone was letting the air out of it. It flattened, and abdominal muscles etched themselves into the skin.  The rest of his body followed suit, transforming itself into his ideal.  An alpha male.  A leading man.  At the end of it all, he stood in front of a stranger.  Even his eyes had changed.  They looked back at him through the mirror, full of confidence and a spark of defiance.  He almost caught a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

The change was immediate.  Between the money and the new face, he became social elite, hosting parties, attending events.  The mysterious newcomer, whose fortune seemed to have appeared out of thin air.  He relished every minute of it.  Instead of chasing people, begging to be noticed, people were begging to be noticed by him.  It was everything he ever wanted, until she came into his life.

She was an environmental lawyer for a large law firm.  She had it all.  Intelligence...strength...beauty.  Her name was Claire. She could stare right through him.  She didn't care about his power.  She didn't care about his charm.  The more he tried to win her over, the more she pulled away.  That, of course, did nothing to deter him.  If anything, it made him desire her more.  It was driving him insane.

Things finally broke down.  He was at yet another party, but he was no longer enjoying himself.  He hadn't been enjoying himself for weeks.  He sat at the bar, downing glasses of alcohol almost carelessly.  He saw her outside on the balcony, and he stumbled his way over to her.  He managed to slur out something along the lines of "Hey baby" along with some semblance of a crude pickup line, which earned him a martini hat and five red marks across his perfectly shaped face.

He drove home, managing to get his car mostly in his driveway (that poor mailbox never saw it coming).  He lumbered into his house, intending to fall asleep, when he walked by the mirror.  Suddenly, his inebriated brain had an amazing thought.  Why should he continue chasing her?  He had a mirror that granted him anything he wanted.  

He stood in front of the mirror.  Once again, he almost imagined that his reflection was sneering at him, but he put it out of his mind.  He imagined Claire, in all her perfection, deeply in love with him.  He continued to focus, as much as his mind would allow him, when suddenly he felt hands around his waist.  He turned around, and found her standing behind him, beckoning him forward.

She led him up to his room and laid him upon the bed.   At first, he was ecstatic, but as the night continued, he became uncomfortable.    She was wrong.  She was not natural.  She was focused fully on him as she had her way, but he was unable to meet her gaze.  Every time he did, her face seemed to move out of focus, like a dark shadow was covering her.  He couldn't linger there long, and it filled him with dread.  Eventually the alcohol took its toll, and he fell into a fitful sleep, with her wrapped faithfully around him.

The next morning, Lewis went back to the mirror and wished her away.  Then he panicked.  He called one of his acquaintances and discovered that the actual Claire was still alive and well.  It had not been her.  He felt relieved, but this quickly turned to depression as he fell into a chair, racked with guilt at what he had brought into the world, however briefly.  Unfortunately, he wouldn't get a chance to make any more mistakes.

The next night, Lewis found himself awake.  It was about 3 AM.  He hadn't remembered waking.  Nor did he remember walking down the stairs to the mirror, but here he was.  He stood and stared at the mirror, back to the man he had become.  He smiled that mischievous smile.  Wait.  He hadn't smiled.  Why was he smiling?  Lewis attempted to move away, but he was stuck in place.  The mirror version of himself allowed its smile to widen, and Lewis felt his mouth tugging upwards to accommodate.  The reflection raised its arm, and Lewis helplessly raised his arm as well.  

Lewis vaguely noticed the entire room he was in filling with a dense fog.  The rest of the world blurred out into obscurity except the mirror with the devilish face of Lewis's counterpart.  The reflection spoke, and Lewis's mouth moved along with the words.  "I sure appreciate you helping me out of there.  Hope you don't mind hanging out for awhile."  He flashed that terrible grin.  "I'll see you around"

Lewis waved goodbye, and his reflection stepped away from the mirror...leaving him in darkness.