Seven Years Bad Luck, and: In from the Cold

31 WIEGNER KATHLEEN K. WIEGNER SEVEN YEARS BAD LUCK It was a magic mirror I thought would take me anywhere because it could not refuse. It taught me imperious beauty, willfullness, pride, by always whispering "you are the fairest." With the house falling around me, the baby a monster screaming incomprehensible demands, I went to the mirror and said save me. Can something you love enough to ask that now answer? "I have always known what is best for you," that was its answer. So I broke it. Now I am wary of mirrors that offer me passage, knowing how easily they harden, turning to diamonds that can only capture light, and the curse they give when broken. I would rather have no luck at all. 32 THE MINNESOTA REVIEW IN FROM THE COLD Sir, all my disguises are running like cheap paint in the rain. I am as easily found out as a child in a halloween costume. I have forgotten my mission. In the bakery I think the baker has a message to give me when I say "cracked wheat." Why does he only dust his hands? If this life were my employer I would resign. If it were my husband I would ask for a divorce. If it were my father I would leave home, cursing and slamming the door. So I respectfully petition to be brought back in, a decent gesture like covering the face of an accident victim or cleaning a grave. ...