Through Darkened Glass
In that dark, cold, ruined place, there were those with glass and those without glass. At first, that was the only difference that Jon had noticed. Not having glass, himself, he quite naturally wanted it.
So, he began to look around for those who had glass so that he could find out where they had gotten it. Maybe then, he thought, he could find a way to get it for himself.
It wasn’t always easy to tell, for many of those who had glass hid it in their pockets or packs and didn’t bring it out very often. Jon was surprised to find that some of those who had it didn’t use it at all. But there were others whose glass shone with light, and these were easy to find.
Jon approached some of those who had it and asked where he could find glass of his own. They pointed him to a way lined with lamps. In the gloom, they held up their glass to light the way, and by the glow of their glass, he could see his path quite clearly. Thanking them, he followed the lamp-lined way and came at last to a door with a sign that simply read, “Come.”
Jon went through it and found what he’d been seeking. When he came back, he held glass of his own.
It was simple, but strange at the same time. The glass was flat, thinnish, glossy black, and solidly heavy. Twice as long as it was wide, it fit comfortably into the palm of his hand as if made to rest there. Very small protrusions jutted out from the sides and the face had a dimple in it. His fingers instinctively sought these and when he pressed them, they yielded ever-so-slightly.
Jon still didn’t know what this gift that he held was, but he was happy. At last, he had glass.
More than that, he had found a haven, for he was now one of those who knew what lay behind the Door. For a while, he and a few of the others that had been called together stayed there and made their camp nearby. There, they shared all that they had, banding together against the cold and dark of that Place. There, in the light of the lamps, he read from the Book that they had given him. There, he warmed himself at their fire.
For a while, it was enough.
But not forever, for the Voice that had called him through the Door and that had sent him back into that Place had sent him for a purpose. He knew that it was not yet time to go home. The glass sat heavy in his pocket, as if waiting for him to take it out and put it to work. It had a purpose, as did he.
The Book had said so.
Now Jon has a secret that he hadn’t shared with the others. He was practically blind. He had worn thick lenses, and they had almost helped. Almost. But then Jon made a discovery. When he held up his glass up to the lamplight, he saw that it was translucent. He could see through it. Intrigued, he began to take it out more and more often. He found that the more he looked through it, the more it acted like a lens. Through it, he could see things that he’d never seen before.
At first, Jon tried using his glass to read the Book. Soon, he stopped trying to read it any other way, for every time he read the Book through the glass, the words came to life and danced before his eyes, telling stories, and speaking words of courage that warmed his heart as never before. Looking through the glass, he felt as if he could truly see what had been written there.
But the glass didn’t merely help his eyes. When he held it close to his ear, he found that he could hear the words of the Book. As he cradled the glass, it sounded to Jon as if the Voice himself were reading the words to him. Night after night, he would fall asleep this way, listening as the Voice spoke words of comfort to him.
Emboldened by what he had found, Jon began to use his glass to look at other things. One night, he picked up a box of treats. They were the sort of thing of which he knew that he was a little too fond. Without his thick lenses, the label on the box seemed fuzzy, so he held his glass up to read it more clearly.
At once he dropped the box as if it had bitten him. He had been enjoying THAT?! He hurled the box away from himself into the darkness beyond the circle of firelight. Then he looked around and saw a basket of lumpy-looking fruit that Nan had brought to share.
Before, they had seemed dull and unappealing, but now he looked at it through the glass and saw the fruit in a whole new light, as it practically glowed with appeal and desirability. He took one, ate it, and then sighed heavily with satisfaction and contentment. This was good. He ate his fill.
Rising, he went to find Nan and thank her. They had become friends, for both had found the light of the fire after wandering out of the darkness. When he found her, Nan, as usual, had her hands full. She always seemed busy, bustling around with her basket. She was always finding things and bringing them back. Some were good, some weren’t.
Jon, still experimenting with his glass, used it to look at what Nan had brought back now. He saw that she had picked up some rubbish by mistake. It was easy enough to do, living in the darkened gloom of that place. When he told her, she said, “Oh, thanks! I hadn’t noticed.”
She emptied the basket. Then she asked him how he’d been able to tell what she had been carrying. He showed her how to use her glass to look at what she held. Nan thanked him with a grin and scampered off to continue looking for supplies. The next time he saw her, her basket was full. This time, it was full of more of the delicious fruit, and she wore a wide, joyful smile on her face.
After that, Jon tried looking at the others around him through his glass. Sometimes he noticed things. Usually, he didn’t. But whenever he did notice, he tried to let them know what he had seen, if he wasn’t too shy. The more he used his glass, the easier it became to trust what it showed him.
One day, Jon was not paying attention to his steps and he wandered out into the cold darkness, far beyond the light of the lamps. There, he stumbled. When he fell, he dropped his thick lenses. Groping for them, he fell into a pit. Darkness and filth closed in around him. He could not find his footing.
But he still had his glass. Groping around, he felt it vibrate in his pocket. Jon clutched at it, trapped there in the rubbish and the darkness, unable to stand. Then, something wondrous happened.
The Voice spoke to him. He heard it coming unbidden from his glass. The Voice told him to look up. He obeyed. As he did, there, at the rim of the pit, he saw a faint glimmer of the same golden light that he had seen beyond the Door.
He groped toward it. As he did, his foot struck something solid. He stood. Amazed, he found that he was able to stand. The closer he got, the more the glass that he held seemed to soak up the golden light and amplify it. Soon he found himself standing in a pool of the golden light, feet planted upon something that was both firm and yet unseen.
Now Jon held up his glass, which was aglow with light. As he did, he heard a small, distant voice calling out his name. He yelled, “I’m here!” and moved toward it, hoping against hope that he would not lose his footing and sink back into the muck. His glass flared with light and showed him where to step. At each step, the ground was firm. Before long, he could see who it was that was calling him.
It was Nan! Her glass was aglow, as well. She had come out looking for him when he had not returned to the fire, and he found that it had been her light that he had seen away in the distance.
Together, they climbed out of that pit. Together, they found their way back to the Door.
As they returned, all of the others welcomed them home. Reunited, they joined the circle around the fire and each added the light from the glass that they held to its glow. Together, they stood with their backs to the Door, united against the dark. Together, they watched the light push back the night.
Looking to the east, together they waited for the Day to dawn.
Through their glass, each one heard the Voice tell them, “Soon, but not yet. Stand firm until then.”
And each one knew they would never be left alone.
Michael Somerville is the author of several short stories, as well as an in-progress high-fantasy series called the Tales of the Broken Realm. He loves telling stories of hope about ordinary characters doing their small part to help heal a broken world. By day, he pays the bills as a hands-on storyteller and project manager, leading and envisioning professional teams in the "real-world", even as he is busily building and illustrating imaginary worlds in his evenings and on the weekends.
Outside of work and writing, he enjoys a wide range of hobbies, including playing music with his family and friends on keyboard or guitar, drawing, sculpting, painting, sewing, and blacksmithing, or walking the length of the Appalachian Trail in his home neighborhood in the Shenandoah Valley, where he serves as a Board member on his local civic association.
Most important to Michael are his family and his church. Michael and Jessica celebrate their 20th anniversary in 2026 and are happily raising three wonderful daughters. He serves actively in his local church, playing music on Sunday, teaching the older elementary kids, and leading a small group of wonderful saints. He hopes to hear "Well done" one day, and plans to keep serving his true King until then.
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