Mirror, mirror

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?” The evil Princess gazed hopefully into the swirling mists of the strange mirror. For a moment they swirled faster, then they clarified into an aerial view of the castle.
“Pressure is falling to ninety over one-thirty and wind-speed is increasing. The outlook for the next three days is increasingly worse. Rain is expected this afternoon, becoming a downpour later on this evening and carrying on through until Wednesday. Take an umbrella with you,” said the mirror.
“Mum!” yelled the evil princess. “The mirror’s still broken!”
Down three turns of the stone spiral staircase the evil Queen was relaxing in what had been her predecessor’s sewing room. She was sat on a low stool upholstered with the pelt of the wolf that had pursued and eaten little Red Riding Hood. The simplest methods, she reflected, were often the best for hiding the evidence in plain sight.
“Mum!” yelled the evil Princess again, and the evil Queen sighed, and stood up.

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