Mirrors

I give to you a story in eleventy-one words...

‘My son refuses to leave his room.’

‘Why?’

‘Something about mirrors.’

‘What about them?’

‘I have no idea. What I know is he keeps destroying them. I would’ve taken him to you but I was afraid he’d smash the car’s mirrors too.’

‘Does he have a history of mental illness?’

‘No, doctor. I’ve never seen him like this.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Twenty-three.’

‘Your address?’

‘Seventeen Oak Street.’

‘I’ll be right there.’

He hung up, turned to his partner. ‘We have another one.’

‘How much does he know?’

‘Everything, I think.’

‘Has he talked?’

‘He’s hinted about it in texts to a few people.’

‘Okay,’ he sighed, ‘Let’s go get him.’