Cassidy couldn't get warm for the rest of the day.

No matter how high he set the thermostat, the house remained cold. At first, he was in doubt of his own abilities to install the smart thermostat. He must have done something wrong and it wasn't working properly. But, it was. Using either his voice or the app on his phone, he could change the setting to whatever he wanted. Apart from that, the radiators were hot to touch. Hot enough for him to only be able to hold his hand near them without burning himself. They were working overtime to try and push some heat into the cold.

It wasn't working.

Not wanting a gas bill in excess of his mortgage payments, Cass conceded. He turned the thermostat down to what should be a normal level. When that made no difference, he decided there was no point in having it on at all, so turned it off. With any setting, there was no change in the chill pressing against him, even through his hoodie.

Maybe he was coming down with something. The stress had meant he hadn't had much of an appetite, and there'd been a bug going around the office at work, something that usually played hopscotch with everyone until they all suffered from it. Even though he was having some time off because of the change of address and all it entailed, perhaps he'd caught it whilst there, and it was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

He sniffed. Nope, all clear up there. He swallowed a few times. No again. His throat wasn't sore, though he now needed a glass of water.

Perhaps he was just being over sensitive. There was nothing wrong with the temperature inside the house. It was psychosomatic. He'd been thinking about a certain type of warmth being absent until his new abode felt more like home, so it must have translated to his tired mind as a physical manifestation.

Hah! Manifestation. It sounded as if he was haunting himself. If he believed in ghosts, he might have been. As it was, it had nothing to do with belief. Ghosts were not real. They were a figment of rich imaginations, created simply to scare and entertain. Like zombies and werewolves and trustworthy politicians, oh my!

Anyway. He needed to get back to work. There was still lots to do. The first thing was to sort the wardrobe door so it didn't keep opening. The previous owner must have jammed it shut or something, as it was closed when he moved in. It was only opening all the time since he'd used it.

Hinges were an easy thing to fix, but Cass didn't like doing them nonetheless, especially on cupboards and the like. He would find himself adjusting one, then needing to adjust another as the door wouldn't be quite hanging right. Then he'd have to move to the other door to do the same there. And back again.

He thought about just buying a new unit to keep his clothes in, but that was just avoiding the problem. It was also adding another. To buy a new one, he'd need money. What money he did have was required for other priorities, such as bills and food. Screwdriver in hand, he went upstairs.

It seemed colder in his bedroom. Maybe there was an issue with the loft insulation. He'd investigate later.

Again, the door was open. At least it was only one, and not both. That would keep him there for three times as long, rather than just twice, because of his incessant tweaking. He swung it a couple of times, watching the hinges. Neither seemed loose, but he'd tighten them anyway.

There was, to be fair, a little give in the screws holding the hinges in place. It wasn't much more than a slight twist of the screwdriver, and he didn't imagine it would make much difference, but once it was finished, he stood and pushed the door shut.

It opened again, with the hinges singing with a soft but high sound.

Typical.

He closed it again, this time looking at the gap between the doors to see if it was straight. It was. Magnetic contact at the top or bottom? No. Cassidy sighed and frowned. Perhaps he should just get a loop of string and hook it between the two handles. That would do the trick. It was messy, though. It'd annoy him, and be a reminder he couldn't fix something as simple as a door.

He went through his clothes to ensure none were protruding too much and pressing against the door when it was closed. The wardrobe was deep enough for that not to happen. Still, he supposed it would be a good idea to take them all out. It would give him more room to work.

After a few minutes, shirts, t-shirts, jeans and underwear covered his bed. Two suits he hadn't worn in years and their respective shirts and ties topped the pile. The wardrobe appeared cavernous now it was empty, more so than when it was originally so. It was a strange illusion that made him wonder if he'd enter Narnia if he pushed at the back.

He still thought the mirror was in a ridiculous place. Why hide a mirror? Hmmm... It was a good size, and he had nothing other than a small round one that flipped over to reveal a magnified side. He used it for shaving and plucking too long eyebrows. It wasn't really suitable for dressing in front of or making sure his t-shirt wasn't on back to front. At some point, he'd have had to buy a full-sized one. Why bother when he could just move this?

Taking the mirror down wasn't a simple task. Rather than being screwed in place, it had been glued with an adhesive that fought back against his initial efforts. He was being careful as he didn't want to damage the wood, but it seemed to not want to be moved. Undeterred, and extremely cautious, Cassidy battled on.

Eventually, he was victorious. His painstaking use of a paint scraper pushed repeatedly into the gap between the glass and wood came good when, suddenly, the mirror dropped. Luckily, Cass was pressing against one edge of it and was quick enough to press his whole body forward to prevent it hitting the inner floor and potentially breaking.

With great care, he lifted the mirror, surprised to find it heavier than he expected, and carried it out into the bedroom. He leaned it against the wall and stepped back. Yeah, that'll do nicely. That's...?

Cassidy stepped forwards to inspect the mirror's surface. It appeared odd at first. Even though he'd been manhandling it, both with removing and carrying it, the glass was still perfectly clean. Clean apart from the smudge he'd seen. Had the mark been that big? Maybe so. He had been looking through his clothes at the back of the wardrobe, so it was difficult to say.

Not particularly wanting to, but not being able to stop himself, he reached out and placed his hand flat against the mirror. It was cold to the touch, colder than normal glass, as if it had been kept in a refrigerator. Well, that's what being left in an empty house with no heating on will do for you. Thinking about it, that must be why the house was struggling to retain any heat. It had forgotten what temperatures above cold were.

After a few seconds, he lifted his hand. He was berating himself for being an idiot and thinking non-rationally, but the reprimand stalled when he saw the area his hand had been. Where there should have been a palm print fading to small patches from his sweaty skin, there was... nothing. He looked at it from various angles and even used his torch to vary the light levels. Nothing.

What did he know, though? He only ever bought the most basic of cleaning products he thought he'd need. They were perfectly sufficient, so getting anything further never really occurred to him. There could well be some glass spray out there that would clean the mirror and keep it free of marks. He laughed, the admonishment resurfacing. It was just strange that the mirror was unmarked apart from, well, that mark.

He turned and closed the wardrobe door. Let's see if it stays shut now, eh?

Hah! It actually did! The shift in weight caused by removing his clothes and the mirror had solved his problem. Great. Did putting them back mean it would return? He couldn't leave the clothes strewn across his bed and the mirror leaned against the wall just to stop the slight annoyance of having to push the scheming door every so often. Perhaps hanging the mirror on the outside would help.

He checked the mirror's back and scraped off the small pieces of adhesive still sticking to it. He'd sort the panel it had been attached to before he put his clothes back in, though it might be a bit later. The exertion had eroded his motivation, and he just wanted a coffee, his social media and maybe a book.

But first...

Fixing the mirror to the outside of the wardrobe's door was much easier than removing it from inside. He had some extra strong glue of his own and applied it lavishly before pressing the glass back. He kept it there, in place, for a few minutes before using his foot to drag over an empty box. He slid it under the bottom edge of the glass to prevent it from dropping. Slowly, he stepped back and, fingertip by fingertip, released his hold.

Perfect.

Oh, and it seemed the heating had finally kicked in properly. The house was beginning to not feel as if there should be snow flurries across the landing.

Enjoying the sense of achievement, he looked at himself in the mirror. Not too bad, he thought. And the mirror too!

It looked good there. Much better than being tucked away inside, no use to anyone. The mark had gone too, it appeared. Had it just needed a change of temperature? Was it nothing more than persistent condensation? If so, excellent. A self-cleaning mirror? How bizarre.

Cassidy glanced over at his bed. Well, he may as well tidy it now. If he didn't put the clothes back into the wardrobe immediately, they'd still be there when he went to bed. He'd be far less inclined to do it then. With a sigh, he walked over and picked up some of the items by their hangers.

The only problem with starting something was it actually needed finishing, he told himself. So finish it!

He turned back, his hands full. Once he'd done this, he'd have to turn the heating down. It had become very warm very quickly. The one place he hadn't installed a smart speaker yet was his bedroom. That was something he didn't mind doing before bed. It was less a job and more playing with tech. With no smart speaker, he couldn't simply ask for the heating to be turned down, or more preferably, off.

Even if he had been able to, Cass would have abruptly been unable to give the relevant instructions. He was abruptly unable to say anything.

In the centre of the mirror, written in a deep red substance that could have been Sharpie, lipstick or blood, was a single word.

Hello.

https://youtu.be/sSD9ePFUkvM