Pops by H. Victory

The tour guide beams, flashing her yellow spiked maw. And now, she says as she reaches for the mouldy rope, time for our star attraction. We call him Pops!

She hesitates before she pulls it. Please, she tells us, do not distress yourselves when he begins knocking from the wrong side of the mirror.

Who is he? Good question. He lived here before. Died in the night all alone with nobody here to cover the mirror, trapped his soul.

He seems to think we can help him, save him from this hell. Bless the old fool.


H. Victory is a librarian who lives in Norfolk with a ginger cat who chose her eighteen years ago. Her work has been published by Daily Science Fiction, Dog Ear, and Speculative 66.

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