Tired and Sleepy

A full-length mirror was brought before me. The reflection was my own much disheveled self, only something aside from my decayed state was disturbing: it was not a false reflection I gazed upon. It was a perfect image - with nothing reversed. Childhood reading had led me to expect that I might walk into this peculiar looking glass, and I made towards it, but it was my other self that emerged first, stepping into my domain. We indulged in a mutual stare: the eye that saw itself. We meshed and merged together, my Siamese twin and I, and strode on, feeling hideously whole.