Arthur J. was not a fast driver. In fact, he was one of those who treated 30 mph in a 40 mph zone as a daring, adrenaline-fuelled gamble with fate. He liked predictability. He liked his hands firmly at ten and two. Above all, he appreciated clarity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Which is why the side mirrors on his modest hatchback had always bothered him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Nonsense,\u2019 Arthur J. muttered, adjusting his spectacles as he waited at a red light. \u2018If I can see it, it is right there. Why must nonsensical automotive design insist on optical gaslighting?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He glanced at the side mirror to check his lane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Standing right beside his car door, reflected in the small convex glass, was a massive Tyrannosaurus Rex. Its terrifying, tooth-filled jaw was stretched wide open in a silent roar, mere inches from his window. Behind the beast, filling the rest of the space in the glass, was a fully marched battalion of Roman legionaries, complete with red banners, helmets and gilded shields. Arthur J. blinked, rubbed his eyes and slowly turned his head to look directly out of his window. Out there, on the tarmac, a perfectly normal, tiny squirrel was nibbling on a discarded peanut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Arthur J. looked back at the mirror. The reflected dinosaur flared its nostrils, locked its golden eyes with the human through the glass and let out another silent screech. Directly behind its tail, a Roman officer seemed to be issuing marching orders to a line of siege engines. Arthur J. swallowed hard, leaning closer to inspect the glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Just a trick of light,\u2019 he whispered to his dashboard, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel tight. \u2018Convex physics. Distortions.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He drove to the closest petrol station forecourt, unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned right over the passenger seat to stare directly into the mirror. The T. rex leaned in too, its razor-sharp teeth taking up almost the entire frame. A teenager on a skateboard rolled past the car, glanced down at Arthur\u2019s passenger mirror to fix his hair and froze.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Mate,\u2019 the teenager whispered, staring into the mirror. \u2018Why is there a Roman army and a massive dinosaur behind your car?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018I don\u2019t know!\u2019 Arthur J. squeaked from the driver\u2019s seat. \u2018I just wanted to buy some windscreen washer fluid!\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u2018Is that… Julius Caesar riding a T. rex?\u2019 the teenager asked, taking a cautious step back. \u2018That is proper Steven Spielberg stuff right there. It is literally that Jurassic Park<\/em> scene with the Jeep, except with Romans.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018I was not looking long enough to critique the cinematography!\u2019 Arthur J. admitted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Reaching hastily into his glove box, Arthur J. pulled out a thick roll of black gaffer tape. Working with swift, panic-fuelled precision, he leaned across the passenger seat and slapped three wide strips directly across the side mirror glass, completely sealing it off from view. He then wound down his own window and treated the driver’s side mirror to the same treatment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He sank back into his seat, wiped his brow, gripped the steering wheel at ten and two and checked his central rear-view mirror. Everything in the cabin looked blissfully normal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2018There,\u2019 Arthur J. said with deep satisfaction, engaging first gear. \u2018Problem solved. Optics restored.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n He gently pulled off the forecourt, blissfully oblivious to the fact that two small gaps in the gaffer tape on his driver\u2019s side mirror still offered a clear view of a prehistoric pterodactyl, currently roosting on the roof of a passing bus.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Arthur J. was not a fast driver. In fact, he was one of those who treated 30 mph in a 40 mph zone as a daring, adrenaline-fuelled gamble with fate. He liked predictability. He liked his hands firmly at ten and two<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":3955,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[64,13],"tags":[105,164],"class_list":["post-3954","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-experimental-prose","category-trails","tag-mirror","tag-t-rex"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3954","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3954"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3954\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3957,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3954\/revisions\/3957"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3955"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3954"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3954"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eurolit.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3954"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}