The Mirror Man

This short story explores the MICE Quotient, as taught by Mary Robinette Kowal in Lecture #7 of Brandon Sanderson’s excellent “2020 Creative Writing Lectures at BYU” available on YouTube.

Birds take flight from the fountain at the center of the White-Stone Plaza, scared by the first swindler of the day who takes their spot nearby and starts shouting for attention. Every day around this place a strange cohort of crooks and liars come to proclaim their latest faiths or remedies to anyone who would listen; many often do. They eventually hoodwink enough people to be chased out of town, or become one of its influential figures; either way they leave their clamouring spot by the fountain, and a new charlatan takes their place.

A man more peculiar than others has recently taken such a spot. He stands on a wooden crate, wearing pale drab robes — a staple of the genre — but does not call for attention nor speak. He only holds a faint smile that never reaches his eyes, and a small square mirror in his hand.

From this mirror he draws and gives away all kinds of objects desired by people; new jewellery to impress a partner, a meal to fill the belly, a fancy pen to feign literacy, a balm to ease ailments. For each person who comes to him with needs and wants, it is always the same: they ask for something, he shows them a reflection of their desire, and if they are content, simply reaches through the glass, pulls out the item and gives it to them. It is a feat many find impressive, so much so they have taken to calling him the Mirror Man.

There are a few discontents, however. When a gold coin turns out to be lead, or a nice snack comes back the wrong way, some of the Mirror Man’s visitors return to protest. Sometimes they leave with a newly minted item, forgetting their earlier grievances. But sometimes they remain unsatisfied, and demand reparations or start making threats. That is when folk rally around the Mirror Man to defend him:

“Your ask was not accurate enough!”

“You received it for free, why do you complain?”

The most devout of defenders have attended many of the Mirror Man’s displays; they are convinced they can divine the workings of the mirror. After much thinking, deliberation, consideration and debate, they have settled on calling themselves “Reflectors”. They summarily crush any critique of the Mirror Man:

“He’s never wrong, you just don’t know what you want.”

“You can always ask him again.”

“You only get what you deserve.”

Under this barrage of implacable logic, the unhappy visitors have no choice but to leave, more hurt and defeated than before. Reflectors take this as undeniable proof of their superior intellect, and other equally convinced minds join their ranks. The Mirror Man himself never partakes in this hubbub, nor does he ask for the help. He only observes and ever faintly smiles.

Today, a man in the crowd that surrounds the Mirror Man says, “I want to have stronger arms, more muscular-like.” No one has thought of that before! People only ask for various items and trinkets. Immediately the crowd bursts.

“You can ask that?”

“Oh I want more fingers!”

“Can I haf’ some of my teef back?”

“I want a bigger—” and so-on and so-forth.

The Mirror Man steps off his stand, and the crowd quietens. He slowly approaches the fellow, who looks at him expectantly. As he reaches him, he makes a small courtly bow. The man, uncertain, nods awkwardly.

“Name’s Bargon, sir,” he says hesitantly.

The Mirror Man makes another bow, as if to acknowledge the man’s name. He gently gestures Bargon to extend one arm by his side, at shoulder height. Bargon complies and lifts his arm as instructed. The Mirror Man then makes a “wait” hand motion. He grabs his mirror at two opposite corners, and starts pulling. Slowly, the mirror expands between his hands. A few in the crowd applaud at this new feat. A moment later, the mirror is about as large as a small window. Holding it upright, the Mirror Man invites Bargon to insert his arm. Bargon starts stepping sideways towards the mirror, his arm still extended. At the other side of the mirror, a silhouette with a strong bulky arm approaches, imitating Bargon’s pace. Bargon grins when he sees the reflection. His limb goes in slowly, first a hand, then a forearm…

“Ha, it feels funny,” says Bargon with a chuckle.

A few in the crowd murmur and Reflectors acquiesce amongst themselves at this new revelation. The Mirror Man makes another “wait” motion once the mirror’s surface is at the shoulder, and Bargon stops moving. The Mirror Man grabs the mirror firmly, then yanks it away from the man’s body. A loud flap can be heard as something slaps Bargon’s side. Many in the crowd gasp at the sight. The thing that has emerged from the mirror and now dangles by Bargon’s shoulder is a misshapen, flabby lump of flesh, thick as a log, that throbs in different places. Bargon seems transfixed by what has replaced his arm. The defences promptly go up.

“You asked him wrong!”

“Did you really look before going for it?”

“Ask him again!”

Bargon slowly looks up at the crowd in stupor.

“Go again!” the crowd continues.

“I think at a glance it looks well enough like an arm!” says someone.

Bargon erupts from his torpor and turns his gaze to the Mirror Man, who has returned to his stand. He points at his changed arm and yells “That is not what I asked! It was not what was in the mirror!”

“Are you saying the Mirror Man is wrong?” asks a woman.

“Yeah, are you an idiot?” insists another.

“He can’t be wrong you know,” affirms a Reflector.

Bargon looks at the crowd, a bewildered look on his face.

“Are you trying to frame the Mirror Man?” someone accuses Bargon.

“Yeah, are you a mole?” adds another.

“Move off, it’s my turn!” a few complain.

Bargon turns to the Mirror Man again.

“I want to go again!” he insists, still pointing at his arm.

The Mirror Man responds with an apologetic head-shake.

“‘Is not possible!” says one man.

A Reflector proclaims solemnly, “It is what enters that non-ostensibly can exit, and what exits that non-ostensibly can enter. The threshold that divides only adds once, for the element’s passage can only traverse the gate straight-lined in a singular crosswise act.”

Bargon blinks at him in confusion.

“I think what goes in can’t come out,” clarifies a woman, “or the other way around.”

“Yeah,” says another, “these Reflector-types bring him alms sometimes, and he dips them in his mirror and they are never seen again.”

Bargon starts to get agitated. “I want to go again! I want a better arm!” he cries.

He flexes the tiny sausages at the end of the strange appendage, trying for a fist, but when he attempts to move his arm he punches his face by accident and falls on his backside. He gets back up and starts swinging wildly as if to shake off the appendage, punching and clubbing left and right at those around him. The crowd gets in a frenzy, some openly mocking and laughing at the man, others screaming in horror and confusion at the unfolding scene. Reflectors, wanting to appear more level-headed, debate the legitimacy of the man’s dissatisfaction; they shush, tsk and patronise him.

“You have become strong Bargon!” shouts a Reflector.

Another adds “The Mirror Man really knows what’s best, even if you don’t!”

The swinging continues, the bruised flee the scene, those who laugh either grow bored or become bruised themselves, and the Reflectors become more content with their foolproof reasoning. After a while, a few onlookers remain and Bargon lies on the ground, heaving from exhaustion and still flabby-armed.

“I just want… to go again…” he whines faintly.

The Mirror Man, who has observed this commotion without betraying any interest, steps down from his crate. He slowly walks to Bargon, and kneels beside him. Then, he reproduces his mirror-expanding trick, this time growing it to a size similar to the man, and sets it flat on the ground beside Bargon. The Mirror Man makes a hand motion as if to invite the man to roll over inside the mirror.

“Will I be made better?” asks Bargon with a whimper.

The Mirror Man nods with his usual faint smile. Bargon sobs once, then with a jolt pushes himself and disappears below the surface, leaving behind the misshapen arm that squirms on the hard glass like a fish out of water. Gasps and a few cries are heard from the crowd again. Some people retreat in fear, but many remain fixated on the mirror’s surface, most of all the Reflectors, as if waiting for the man to re-emerge. The Mirror Man, still kneeling, casually pushes the limb aside and reduce the mirror back to size. He gently picks it up, stands slowly, and calmly walks back to his stand. Once back up there, he examines his mirror for a moment, holding it in one hand. Then with a sudden jerk he collapses it in his fist. When he opens his hand again, there are two mirrors in his palm. His smile widens into an abnormal grin that reveals an inordinate amount of teeth. There will be no more requests today, and the fountain’s birds will not be seen again for a long time.

END.

The MICE Quotient stands for Milieu, Inquiry, Character, Event. They are different types of stories that you can nest within each other to structure a story and progress plot.

• Milieu story: Starts when a character enters a space. Tension is built with the character’s difficulty to exist in the space. Ends when the character exits or settles in the space.
• Inquiry story: Starts with a question. Tension is built searching for the answer, against dead-ends and red herrings. Ends when the question is answered.
• Character story: Starts with a character unhappy with themselves. Tension is built fighting internal threats (e.g their inability to change). Ends when they are changed, happily or not.
• Event story: Starts when the status quo is disrupted. Tension is built fighting against external threats for a new status quo. Ends when there is a new status-quo.

Here is how I broke down this story:

• Open Milieu - The story is located around the plaza’s fountain, where birds comes to drink and where charlatans gather to swindle people.
  • Open Event - A peculiar charlatan arrives: the Mirror Man.
    • Open Character - Bargon arrives, asking for strong arms.
      • Open Event - Bargon gets an horror attached to his body.
        • Open Event - Bargon lashes out and makes a scene.
        • Close Event - Bargon ends up exhausted.
        • Open Event - Mirror Man offers Bargon an alternative.
        • Close Event - Bargon accepts the Mirror Man’s offer.
      • Close Event - The strange arm stays behind, unable to enter back in the mirror.
    • Close Character - Bargon disappears in the mirror.
  • Close Event - Mirror Man gets a second mirror, revealing his true nature.
• Close Milieu - The fountain’s birds will not return in a long time, implying the Mirror Man has altered that the status quo forever, reinforcing the closed Event story.

A few lessons learned:

1. I found the MICE Quotient incredibly useful.

   It can help define a story’s outline while keeping focus on what needs to be written about. Which MICE element are we in, at this stage of the story? That should be the focus, ideally progressing the plot of that MICE element towards its closure and helping progress plot of higher-level elements. Something about this really clicks with my software developer brain.

2. Knowing when to stop is hard.

   Even through I was fully committed to writing a very short story, it felt like it was escaping from me, as if I had set a car in motion that I now wanted to stop, but the inertia meant it still had to go a fair bit after pushing the brakes. I felt I had to write more to close the story’s Milieu to close its opening tag, even though I knew this to be false: closing stories can be done much faster than their openings.

   Here’s an info-dump to illustrate. I had a whole half-written third part that gave more volume to the Milieu: a brief look at the charlatans and what they feel about what is happening with the Mirror Man, who attends the charlatans’ showings, what they say, etc. I did this with city officers coming the next day to investigate the commotion and Bargon’s disappearance/death, and having them mingle in the crowds around the fountain to investigate what happened. The officers and prefect draw completely incorrect conclusions, accuse Bargon for the commotion, and cause some people to revolt and smash someone’s gift from the Mirror Man and, because it is “private property”, lead to the officers to beat them up — France’s police violence and repression of protests are on my mind a lot lately. Reflectors then feel protected by authorities and emboldened, protesters get disappeared in mirrors, more mirrors get created, Mirror Man starts delegating his mirror-mancy to Reflectors who set up shop across the city, Reflectors start handing out mirrors to people to self-serve, people with mirrors become self-absorbed, until a few mirror haters form a resistance, smash mirrors faster than they can be made, and eventually smash the Mirror Man’s original mirror, killing him and, finally, we reach the end: we zoom out on the plaza, how it has it been changed forever (or not), and bam the end. Yeah. That word quota was giving me cold-sweats. Better to close it like I did, I think.

3. I got ahead of myself with my narration/world-building ideas.

   I think the Reflectors are mostly useless in this story. I had plans for them that never materialised because I had to cut the story short – for good reason! You could argue they add to the world-building, by showing there are always faithful followers to charlatans, or perhaps they contribute to Bargon’s farcical scene. The truth is I really wanted to dunk on Rationalists.

The Mirror Man © 2026 by Rafael Gonzalez is licensed under CC BY-NC 4.0.

This means you can share and adapt this work, but not commercially, provided that you: attribute it to me by name, Rafael Gonzalez, and by including a link to this work; indicate if changes were made to this work; provide a link to the license. You may not in any way suggest I endorse you or your use of this work. You may not restrict others from doing anything the license permits.