It’s been an unsettled few days in this house, I must say. It’s gotten so a girl can barely catch a wink of sleep for all the consternation. My humans talk in anxious tones. He’s keeping a decidedly low profile, true to form. The trouble began, of course, when The Princess broke the mirror. Only she actually saw it come down, but it landed with a shockingly cheerful tinkle (of that I am witness). My humans initially made a great commotion—followed by a disquieting hush. A noisy human is a predictable human. Their silence in the face of catastrophe is alarming indeed. I fled the room.

Later, I heard her muffled voice from somewhere upstairs. Pacing and crying, pacing and crying. This has gone on now for three days and I am losing sleep. What could have happened, I wonder? Did she look into the broken mirror? What did she see? Is she now to be cursed with seven years’ bad luck (and me with seven years of abbreviated sleep)? All that crying and pacing. She sounds like she has gone quite mad! Once again, of course, she’s stolen the scene. If anyone’s going to be a drama queen around here, it should be me!