Henry juggled on the streets. He had a license and everything. It wasn't the highest paying gig, but any extra money helped.
Henry always displayed business cards. He even got paying jobs out of them. They had a line that said, "Receive 20% off if this card is mentioned." Actually no one received anything off. He didn't plan on anyone paying full price, and no one ever did. It was just a way to drum up business.
It was a Tuesday when Henry noticed it. How can you describe it?
Henry was juggling three silver balls for the crowd that always gathered to watch when he performed. He added two more. This sounds easy enough, but is incredibly hard and had taken three years to perfect. Even after all that time, he could only keep the spheres going for a few seconds and was forced to catch them to avoid an embarrassing drop. His hat was filling up with cash. He usually would have a friend watch the hat to make sure no one helped themselves to the hat and contents. Today however, he was alone and keeping one eye on it.
That's why he didn't notice, but when he went to catch the last shiny silver orb, the reflection was wrong. Instead of Henry reaching for himself in the ball's surface, there was a woman in a gown reclining on a couch clearly indoors gazing at him. She had a slight smile on her lips.
Henry dropped the ball in shock and almost lost the other four in the process. The ball shattered on the pavement. Henry stood staring at the three pieces of the former orb. He was unaware of the applause around him until someone handed him his hat filled with cash.
"You'd better hold this tight. There is a guy eying it a little closer than he should be," a friendly female voice whispered to him and left.
When Henry came to himself, he was holding a lot more cash than he had taken in recently. Hmm, must be pity for my broken sphere, he thought. He put away everything in the gym bag he carried and then slinging the bag over his shoulder turned his attention to the three jagged pieces of metal on the ground. There was nothing unusual about them. They reflected him as they should.
It wasn't until later that night when he was placing a new replacement orb in the gym bag that he noticed one of the other spheres had the woman's reflection. The ball was reflecting more light than was in his gym bag, so affectively glowed with the reflected light of a room that may not even exist.
Henry withdrew his hand as though there were a copperhead snake in the bag. There wasn't. The woman wasn't even looking at him this time. He reached in and took out the ball.
This had been a normal metal sphere when he had bought it. She was looking at him now. He waved at her. He instantly felt foolish, but then as if in response, she smiled at him.
He felt uneasy.
He knew that this wasn't the ball that had reflected her while he was performing. Had her reflection transferred to this ball because it was closest when the other one broke? What was he thinking. This wasn't possible. It must be some fiber optics trick. He looked at her again. She had lost interest with him, and was doing something he could see with her back to him. He tried rotating the ball to get a different angle, but the reflection didn't change perspective. He could only see her from one angle.
He on instinct broke the sphere. It took three tries on the apartment floor. The neighbor downstairs banged on the ceiling in retaliation. Henry checked the now normal pieces of the broken sphere.
She was not reflected in the pieces, but a mild glow came once again from his gym bag. He found her reflection there and she seemed to have a questioning look on her face.
He placed the ball on the dresser and lay down on the bed and watched the ball and the tiny figure reflected in it until sleep took him. He dreamed about a woman trapped in a sphere forever. He dreamed of her only touch of the outside world being the sphere where her reflection lay. At first the world was familiar, but over the ages the world she say changed and became unrecognizable. Languages, traditions and cultures fading into something barely recognizable.
He had to work. Henry jumped up, showered and was out the door with the contents of his bag. This morning he was doing a retirement party. It went well and was indoors, so he couldn't do more than three balls for lack of space. He didn't remember the odd reflection until he came home.
Then he saw that the ball had rolled off the dresser and somehow shattered on the floor.
"Figures," he muttered. "It takes three tries when I want it to happen, but one when I don't. I need better equipment."
That's when he realized she was gone. He had lost her. Where had she gone? He didn't have any idea. He didn't have anymore reflective spheres. Somewhere nearby a mechanical part (maybe a ball bearing) that machines had made, sorted and assembled into something else had obtained her image. No one would ever know she was there. The part may take years or decades to wear out. He would never see her again and no one would ever know. No one would ever believe.
He felt heavy, like something was pulling at an unseen part of him. It was horrid. He hated this feeling, but he knew he couldn't do anything about it. He prepared to go perform on the streets.