On the surface, he was fine.
Deep within, he felt OK.
In his mind, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
He was flesh and bone.
Four fingers and a thumb on both hands, five toes on both feet.
He had thick hair; eyebrows; two eyes; a nose and a mouth.
A scratch on his neck, wet to the touch.
His heart beat within his chest.
He could feel it… them…. everything.
They were there.
He was there.
So why, when he looked into the mirror, couldn’t he see himself? No matter how hard he looked, his reflection wasn’t there.
The Mansionic Perspective 
Would you like to leave a comment?