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Mirrors I stood on the ceiling of the world and looked at the mirror image of my mirrored image. Strange… I was rightside up. I looked again and saw my reflection looking at me, looking at me looking at me on the ceiling looking at me. How can this be? I wonder, can doctors be so cruel? I moved to the cobblestoned alley, in a difference place, hoping for a cure. I found more mirrors. I checked the reflex mechanisms in my cameras. They worked perfectly, yet they only captured other images, not mine. I bought new mirrors and hung them everywhere, even in my shower. Too damn foggy, I couldn’t see me. I bought hand mirrors, small mirrors, huge mirrors, rear view mirrors. It was then I began to see the reflection I was looking for was not mine. It was only a mirror image of me. Screw all you doctors. I saw a whiter shade of pale. |
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