He finished dressing, slipped into his suit jacket and steeled himself for what he knew he would see as he opened the closet door. He stood with his back to the full-length mirror, and starting at his feet he slowly raised his eyes, checking to make sure his pants and suit jacket were hanging right. He stopped as his eyes reached collar level and closed them, took a deep breath and turned around for the front view. Same procedure, eyes at the floor, slowly raising them until he reached eye level. And this morning, like every morning for the past five weeks, there it was. The mask in the mirror was positioned exactly where his head should be. No matter which way he turned or looked, it moved in unison with him. It was, after all, his reflection. Except that he didn't wear a mask. The very first time he had seen it, he had initially been confused, thinking he must be seeing things and stood looking in the mirror, trying to understand what exactly he was seeing. He looked around the room to see if something could be reflecting in the mirror, causing his face to appear distorted. He opened and closed the vanity mirror, looking around for something which would provide a reasonable answer. He thought there was something wrong with the mirror until he saw his reflection in the mirror on his closet door, the mask was there as well. He had been horrified. He now saw it in every mirror, every reflection, everywhere.
