The Crack in the Mirror:

My mother sent me many times to the nearest neighbours' house. They lived a good 45 minutes away. I was eight or nine at the time so it seemed very far. She wanted me to get fresh eggs from Sylvie, the old lady who was our neighbour. The eggs had a reputation in our town but so did that odd couple; really quite the reputation.

Ephraim, Sylvie's husband was bitter and chased everyone off when he got angry. Sylvie was the subdued wife of this apparently cruel man. She always wore the same dress. She had a blind dog and would sit in her rocking chair using the dog as a footstool. Ephraim was known for being cruel to his farm animals; he could kill a chicken with his bare hands.

I had to get eggs from these people, always very afraid of them. But, I had found a way to cope. At the entrance of their home, hanging crooked on the wall of the vestibule was a broken old brownish mirror. When I looked directly in the crack, the mirror would distort my face and if I stood on my tiptoes in a certain position, I had no forehead. My hair was directly over my eyes. It was very funny and I would stay in that position until the old lady gave me the eggs and then I would go home as fast as I could still smiling all the way.