I look into the mirror, and see changes that have confounded my visage, minute traces of me have disappeared each day i wake. Who is this person staring blankly back at me? I see lines, blemishes, contours, unfamiliar. He raises his hand to the glass and I mimic him. Who are you I ask? No expression. His voice pervades my mind, much too easily.
"We're the same, you and I," His voice does not falter. "Same face, same body..the same 10 fingers, same matching toes...same voice, same heart, same mind. I am you. And you are me."
I feel the hatred in the recesses of my soul gather might...pushing, pulsating through my veins...through my heart, through my mind and he sees it too. Arm cocked, I thrust my fist into the reflection. The deafening silence of the moment does not filter the sound of glass in its agony of breaking. My sight goes black as I feel my skin tear, flood of crimson pours onto the surface. I stand there, drips of blood on the tiled floor. Knuckles feel the fever of hurt. Now there's not one, but an infinite number of him on the pieces of mirror left, and on the pieces on the floor. They laugh, mockingly at the despair they see in my eyes. And I join them. What else can i do? What else is there?
Stranger M.Rushdy
