Lakhasly

Once upon a time, in a small village surrounded by hills and open fields, there lived a woman named Ayotunde.What had Ayotunde meant by "The truth is in the touch, not the reflection"? And more importantly, what would happen now that the mirror rule had been broken? The air in the room felt heavier, and the quiet hum of the salon seemed to grow louder... Ayotunde greeted him with a warm smile, her usual kindness flowing through her. she asked, guiding him to one of the plush chairs by the window. Adu settled into the chair, glancing around at the vibrant decor. He raised an eyebrow at the absence of mirrors but didn't think much of it. After all, he had been to places where mirrors weren't the focus. Ayotunde, sensing his curiosity, said softly, "You'll see the beauty once I'm finished with you.On the rare occasion someone questioned them, Malika would smile knowingly and say, "The truth is in the touch, not the reflection." Her words always carried weight. Then, one day, a young man named Adu walked into the salon. Adu had recently moved to the village, still new to the town and trying to find his place in the community. He had heard about Ayotunde's salon from the villagers, but unlike most, he was skeptical. he thought. Adu entered the salon and was greeted warmly by Ayotunde, who invited him to sit in one of the plush chairs by the window. As Ayotunde began her work, Adu raised an eyebrow and asked, "So, why no mirrors?Instead of mirrors, the walls were full of colorful paintings, flowers hung from the ceiling, and the air smelled sweet, like lavender and sandalwood."Yes, Adu. I told you the rule was there for a reason. The mirrors--they reveal things that were never meant to be seen. When you look into one, it doesn't just show your reflection. It shows the hidden parts of your soul--the parts that should stay untouched. And once they are seen... once the mirror exposes them, they can never be undone."After all, Ayotunde's hands were amazing--she could braid hair beautifully, curl it into perfect waves, and cut it so smoothly that it looked brand new.He had heard the stories--stories of people leaving Ayotunde's salon full of confidence, feeling transformed--but Adu wasn't one to believe in superstitions.Her hairstyling skills were famous, but it wasn't just about how she twisted hair into beautiful braids or turned messy hair into perfect curls.People from all walks of life, from villagers wanting a simple trim to high-ranking officials with complicated needs, trusted Ayotunde completely.I get that you're trying to be different, but isn't that a bit strange?" Ayotunde smiled but didn't answer right away. She had heard this question countless times. Instead, she simply said, "Let the experience speak for itself."Ayotunde nodded slowly, her face softening with a mixture of regret and sorrow.She had heard about Ayotunde's skill, but she was still puzzled by the missing mirrors.Ayotunde welcomed Leila with her usual warmth and invited her to sit in the cozy chair near the window.She twisted, combed, and styled Leila's hair with such care that Leila started to relax Ayotunde was no ordinary woman.When someone left her salon, they didn't just have a new hairstyle--they felt better about themselves, like Ayotunde had worked a little magic on their hearts too.Ayotunde's salon was successful not only because of her skill but also because of one simple rule: No mirrors.Adu, unaware of the tension he had just caused, glanced at her and shrugged, holding the mirror in his hands.Ayotunde interrupted, her voice full of disbelief and fury.The reflection that stared back at him wasn't his own--it was something darker, twisted, and wrong.She took a deep breath and said, "I've heard you're great, but I don't understand why there are no mirrors. How can I know I'll like my hair if I can't see it?"Ayotunde smiled kindly, but didn't answer right away.As Ayotunde started working on her hair, her hands moved smoothly and skillfully.The walls were painted in soft pastel colors, with calming nature paintings that made everyone feel at ease.He didn't understand why he couldn't check himself in a mirror, why he couldn't see how Ayotunde was doing.There was a tense stillness as Adu's heart raced.Ayotunde's face flushed crimson with anger.She stepped forward, her hands trembling, her voice sharp and rising with fury.Adu's eyes widened in confusion.he asked, still confused, but feeling a rising unease The tension in the room was thick and suffocating.Adu stood frozen, the mirror still clutched tightly in his hands.He couldn't explain it, but the mirror, once so harmless, now seemed like an object of fear rather than vanity.Adu whispered, his voice shaky and small, as if he were afraid to speak the words out loud.Adu's heart pounded harder, the words echoing in his mind.now he could feel the strange, unsettling sensation creeping into his bones.His pulse quickened, and the air around him seemed to crackle with an energy he couldn't understand.Adu swallowed hard, his mind racing.The unease inside him grew stronger, gnawing at him, like something was pulling him into a darkness he couldn't escape.She owned a hair salon, but it wasn't just any salon.There was something special about Ayotunde's salon.At first, visitors would ask, "Why are there no mirrors here, Ayotunde?" Ayotunde would smile and say, "You don't need to see yourself to know that you're beautiful."Some people would laugh and think it was just one of Ayotunde's little quirks.But still, they couldn't help but wonder: Why no mirrors?One day, a young woman named Leila came into the salon.Leila looked around, still unsure.Leila, still a little doubtful, decided to give it a try.People would travel from far away, curious about the idea of beauty without seeing it. Those who followed the rule left feeling amazing, but whispers always followed: What if it didn't work for everyone?The salon itself was like a peaceful retreat.As the minutes passed, Adu grew more impatient.

Once upon a time, in a small village surrounded by hills and open fields, there lived a woman named Ayotunde. Ayotunde was famous for the magic she worked with her hands. She owned a hair salon, but it wasn’t just any salon. People came to her not only for a new hairstyle but also to feel better, to be changed, and even to heal.
There was something special about Ayotunde’s salon. There were no mirrors inside. Instead of mirrors, the walls were full of colorful paintings, flowers hung from the ceiling, and the air smelled sweet, like lavender and sandalwood. No matter how bright the lights were or how beautiful the place looked, there were no mirrors.
At first, visitors would ask, "Why are there no mirrors here, Ayotunde?" Ayotunde would smile and say, “You don’t need to see yourself to know that you’re beautiful.”
Some people would laugh and think it was just one of Ayotunde’s little quirks. After all, Ayotunde's hands were amazing—she could braid hair beautifully, curl it into perfect waves, and cut it so smoothly that it looked brand new. But still, they couldn’t help but wonder: Why no mirrors?
One day, a young woman named Leila came into the salon. She had heard about Ayotunde’s skill, but she was still puzzled by the missing mirrors. “How can I trust someone to do my hair if I can't see it as they do it?” she thought. So, she decided to find out for herself.
Ayotunde welcomed Leila with her usual warmth and invited her to sit in the cozy chair near the window. “What can I do for you today?” she asked softly.
Leila looked around, still unsure. The shop was calm and smelled wonderful, but she still had questions. She took a deep breath and said, “I’ve heard you’re great, but I don’t understand why there are no mirrors. How can I know I’ll like my hair if I can’t see it?”
Ayotunde smiled kindly, but didn’t answer right away. Leila, still a little doubtful, decided to give it a try. As Ayotunde started working on her hair, her hands moved smoothly and skillfully. She twisted, combed, and styled Leila's hair with such care that Leila started to relax
Ayotunde was no ordinary woman. Her hairstyling skills were famous, but it wasn’t just about how she twisted hair into beautiful braids or turned messy hair into perfect curls. What made her truly special was how she made people feel. When someone left her salon, they didn’t just have a new hairstyle—they felt better about themselves, like Ayotunde had worked a little magic on their hearts too.
She had earned her reputation not only through her unmatched talent but also through her warm and almost magical presence. People from all walks of life, from villagers wanting a simple trim to high-ranking officials with complicated needs, trusted Ayotunde completely. She made them feel seen, heard, and understood—a rarity in the busy world outside.
Ayotunde’s salon was successful not only because of her skill but also because of one simple rule: No mirrors. This rule had become a legend in the village. People would travel from far away, curious about the idea of beauty without seeing it. Those who followed the rule left feeling amazing, but whispers always followed: What if it didn’t work for everyone? What would happen if someone broke the rule?
The salon itself was like a peaceful retreat. The walls were painted in soft pastel colors, with calming nature paintings that made everyone feel at ease. But for first-time visitors, there was an odd sense of unease, as though the usual rules didn’t apply here. The silence, broken only by the sound of scissors and hairdryers, made the place feel like it was outside of time. There was no noise from the busy village—just the quiet of this special place, away from the world.
Behind the scenes, there were a few people who often came and went. One of them was Malika, an older woman who had been coming to Ayotunde for years. She often sat in the corner, sipping tea while Ayotunde worked on new customers. Malika knew the rules better than anyone. On the rare occasion someone questioned them, Malika would smile knowingly and say, “The truth is in the touch, not the reflection.” Her words always carried weight.
Then, one day, a young man named Adu walked into the salon. Adu had recently moved to the village, still new to the town and trying to find his place in the community. He had heard about Ayotunde’s salon from the villagers, but unlike most, he was skeptical. “What’s the big deal about mirrors?” he thought. “I’m here for a haircut, not a lesson in philosophy.”
Adu entered the salon and was greeted warmly by Ayotunde, who invited him to sit in one of the plush chairs by the window. As Ayotunde began her work, Adu raised an eyebrow and asked, “So, why no mirrors? I get that you’re trying to be different, but isn’t that a bit strange?”
Ayotunde smiled but didn’t answer right away. She had heard this question countless times. Instead, she simply said, “Let the experience speak for itself.”
As the minutes passed, Adu grew more impatient. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t check himself in a mirror, why he couldn’t see how Ayotunde was doing. “What’s the harm in just looking once?” he thought.
He had heard the stories—stories of people leaving Ayotunde’s salon full of confidence, feeling transformed—but Adu wasn’t one to believe in superstitions. So, after what seemed like an eternity, he stood up and excused himself. He knew there was a small storage closet in the back of the salon, and behind a stack of towels, he was sure there was an old, forgotten mirror. No one would know if he just took a quick peek.
But as his fingers touched the cool glass, something strange happened. The mirror began to crack—slowly at first, then suddenly, with a sharp, unnatural sound. Adu froze. In that moment, it felt like something in the air of the salon had shifted.
Ayotunde, hearing the noise, walked toward him. Her face was unreadable. “You broke the rule,” she said firmly, almost as a warning.
The room fell silent. There was a tense stillness as Adu’s heart raced. He didn’t know what to expect, but he was about to find out. What had Ayotunde meant by “The truth is in the touch, not the reflection”? And more importantly, what would happen now that the mirror rule had been broken?
The air in the room felt heavier, and the quiet hum of the salon seemed to grow louder...
Ayotunde greeted him with a warm smile, her usual kindness flowing through her. “What can I do for you today?” she asked, guiding him to one of the plush chairs by the window.
Adu settled into the chair, glancing around at the vibrant decor. He raised an eyebrow at the absence of mirrors but didn’t think much of it. After all, he had been to places where mirrors weren’t the focus. Ayotunde, sensing his curiosity, said softly, “You’ll see the beauty once I’m finished with you. Just trust me.”
Adu nodded, unsure but eager to see the results. Ayotunde began her work, her hands moving swiftly and skillfully through his hair, braiding, cutting, curling, and twisting. The room was quiet, except for the gentle hum of the hairdryer and the rhythmic snip of the scissors. Everything felt peaceful—until, without warning, Adu reached into his bag.
He pulled out a small compact mirror, one of those foldable types. He had gotten used to checking his reflection after every step of his grooming routine, and without thinking, he opened it in front of him.
The moment the mirror caught the light, a heavy silence fell over the room. Malika, who had been quietly sipping her tea in the corner, stiffened, her eyes widening. Ayotunde’s face turned pale, her hands freezing mid-motion. She slowly turned, her eyes locking onto Adu’s with a look so intense it made his skin crawl.
Ayotunde’s voice broke the silence. “What... are you doing?”
Adu, unaware of the tension he had just caused, glanced at her and shrugged, holding the mirror in his hands. “I just wanted to check how things were going, make sure the cut looks good.”
Ayotunde’s face flushed crimson with anger. She stepped forward, her hands trembling, her voice sharp and rising with fury. “How dare you bring that mirror into my salon?” she hissed. “Haven’t you been warned about the rule? No mirrors! This is sacred ground!”
Adu’s eyes widened in confusion. “I didn’t know, I swear. I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just a mirror, I thought…”
“You thought what?” Ayotunde interrupted, her voice full of disbelief and fury. “You thought you could break the one rule I’ve built this place on?” Her words cut through the air like a blade, and there was a tremor in her voice that made Adu step back in alarm.
“Why is this such a big deal?” he asked, still confused, but feeling a rising unease
The tension in the room was thick and suffocating. Adu, holding the mirror in his hand, felt his heart race in his chest. What had he done? What was going to happen now?
Then, it happened. The mirror flickered. The reflection that stared back at him wasn’t his own—it was something darker, twisted, and wrong.
Ayotunde’s voice came as barely a whisper. “You’ve seen it now. The curse has been unleashed.”
Adu’s breath caught in his throat. The shadows in the room seemed to close in around him, like they were creeping from every corner. The weight of Ayotunde’s words seemed to hang in the air, crushing the space around them.
Adu stood frozen, the mirror still clutched tightly in his hands. He could feel the unease settle over him like a heavy weight. The room felt different now—darker, thicker. He couldn’t explain it, but the mirror, once so harmless, now seemed like an object of fear rather than vanity.
“Ayotunde... you’re saying that if I don’t stop... the darkness will come for me?” Adu whispered, his voice shaky and small, as if he were afraid to speak the words out loud.
Ayotunde nodded slowly, her face softening with a mixture of regret and sorrow. “Yes, Adu. I told you the rule was there for a reason. The mirrors—they reveal things that were never meant to be seen. When you look into one, it doesn’t just show your reflection. It shows the hidden parts of your soul—the parts that should stay untouched. And once they are seen... once the mirror exposes them, they can never be undone.”
The silence in the room deepened. Adu’s heart pounded harder, the words echoing in his mind. He wanted to say something, anything to make sense of this, but the weight of the situation pressed down on him like a storm. He had broken the rule, and now... now he could feel the strange, unsettling sensation creeping into his bones. The reflection staring back at him from the mirror felt foreign, as though it was no longer his own.
His pulse quickened, and the air around him seemed to crackle with an energy he couldn’t understand. The room, once calm and peaceful, now felt like a place holding its breath, waiting for something.
“Do you understand now?” Ayotunde’s voice broke through the tension, firm but filled with sorrow. “There are consequences to seeing too much, to knowing too much. This salon, this space... it’s not just about beauty. It’s about trust. People come here not to look at themselves but to feel something deeper. And once you break that trust, everything changes.”
Adu swallowed hard, his mind racing. The unease inside him grew stronger, gnawing at him, like something was pulling him into a darkness he couldn’t escape. He had crossed a line, and now, there was no going back