“A gigantic woodpecker in my house?” Mickey said to himself, half asleep, the next morning. It was only after a few moments that he realized the annoying noise was simply someone knocking persistently on his door.

“Marzabar!” exclaimed Mickey, welcoming his friend, the postman with the unusual name, with a huge yawn.

“I'll put your mail on the table. But where...” he began to ask, before Mickey interrupted him.

“Second shelf on the right!” replied Mickey with his nose in the refrigerator.

Having breakfast with an old friend is always a pleasure, even if he takes possession of all of the mango-flavored cereal. Mickey found Marzabar was quite a card: he was the most avid reader of magazines on the unknown and the supernatural he had ever known.

“ Urban Legends , Almost True , The Nearly Real Alien ... Interesting reading!” Mickey chuckled.

As usual, the two embarked upon a heated discussion. Mickey contended that there was a rational explanation for everything, while Marzabar argued that rationality was not enough.

“Even I'll admit that as a child, I had some sort of intuition. When I had to make decisions I would feel a shiver down my spine and then...”

Marzabar sat up attentively and stared at Mickey. “... and then?”

Mickey seemed to be miles away, deep in thought. He could see that Marzabar was transfixed and Mickey began to laugh. “And then I grew up!”

When Marzabar left, sighing fondly at Mickey's skepticism, Mickey thought back to the shiver down his spine from the night before. And what if there really is such a thing as an instinct that has no rational explanation?

Sitting on the shelf waiting for him was Minnie's compact. Mickey touched it hesitantly. Finally, he decided to open it.

“AAAAH!”

Marzabar, who was still nearby, rushed to check that his friend was okay. Mickey, to his great embarrassment, stammered, “Just a r-rude awakening this morning!”

Startled but reassured to see Mickey safe and sound, Marzabar returned to his delivery round, leaving his friend struggling with the irrational.

The small mirror inside the compact reflected the image of someone else. Mickey stared at it, but saw only a sinister face, with a stern gaze and a grim expression.

Impossible!

One thing was certain: Mickey would get to the bottom of the story. He gently removed the mirror from the compact and found a label on the reverse. The Shop of Errors . On reading the name, Mickey felt a shiver down his spine once more. EXr6287u6NNVz+GYLY+7SBsrcqIjTEksQl6hvkLhtOzogwUEg6k7NKkMkEKPp6LyPax8lT9VnO+uJTeQipvxVw==