There are two people you’ll meet in your life. One will run a finger down the index of who you are and jump straight to the parts of you that peak their interest. The other will take his or her time reading through every one of your chapters and maybe fold corners of you that inspired them most. You will meet these two people; it is a given. It is the third that you’ll never see coming. That one person who not only finishes your sentences, but keeps the book.
He walked to his bathroom like it was
the most natural thing to do
at this point. Like he had no other choice.
He just stood there. A few feet away from the mirror
that showed him his entire face and downward,
downward until just below his last rib. He stayed
there, staring. He looked straight
through his own eyes like they would
suddenly change. He was relieved by
the thought that he was,
in fact, in front of a mirror,
and not a camera,