Mirror

and so you stood there, planted. an outside observer would have sworn roots had taken over the lower half of your body.

you’d just left the bathroom, and as you turned to leave you noticed something odd. your weary brain took a few seconds to catch up but when it did, you had no choice but to freeze up. you didn’t have a reflection.

this was odd, as you could have sworn you’d had a reflection for the first 27 and a half years of your life. and as you stood there, like a stick in the mud, you started wondering what had caused your reflection to jump ship at this specific moment. had it left earlier? and you’d just not noticed? you were known for being a bit of a dozy bastard but this was taking the piss a bit. were you just over tired? it was 3:27AM. you’d only gotten up to go to the toilet, and all of a sudden you’re faced with this monolithically terrifying concept.

you manage to start moving your legs, slowly, mind you. you walk towards the wee mirror perched on top of the bathroom cabinet, like some sort of really mundane hawk. nope. still no reflection. you pick it up, move it around. flip it over to the more magnified side, clearly not thinking straight because what fucking difference would that make? all in vain.

so now the mind starts racing even faster, it’s practically Usain fucking Bolt at this stage. you cast your mind back to those daft horror stories you used to read, and remember that vampires don’t have reflections. annoyingly, as you don’t have a reflection, you can’t check your neck for the tell tale bite mark that would finally answer your question. next up, is the mirror broken? the short answer, you know in your heart of hearts is no but you still wonder. how do mirrors work? no cunt knows, so, for the time being, that’s the prevailing theory. mirror is broken. cool. i’ll deal with this tomorrow. but then you catch yourself…

this isn’t the first odd thing thats happened over the past wee while, is it? not by a long shot. yesterday, you saw that wee guy out the corner of your eye in the fridge when you were making a cup of tea. 2 days beforehand, you came downstairs and you could have sworn the seats in the living room had been swapped around. “tampered with” you kept repeating. right, tomorrow? doctors. or a psychic. someone.

there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. carbon monoxide poisoning. you fucking dafty. you kept putting getting the batteries in that alarm off, and look at you now. passed away in your sleep didn’t you? silly, silly cunt.