He remembered thinking that maybe she somehow knew he was here, and had gotten the police to get him. Several times he wiped sweat off of his hands on...either his blue jeans or his old brown long sleeved work shirt. With the windows shut, it was getting to damn hot in the apartment, or was it his nerves? He didn’t know, but she was taking to long. He began to panic, and that’s about the time the door opened, and he was half ready to lunge and grab her, and half ready to go through the fire. He found himself in a room full of mirrors. Tall mirrors, short mirrors, ornate mirrors, plain mirrors, round mirrors, square mirrors, large mirrors and small mirrors. Mirrors everywhere he turned. And, each held the image of his perfect face each image taunted him with the lie of an ideal he would never realize. A truth that would never be. He lashed out at the nearest mirror with his fists and felt his heart soar triumphantly as it shattered. His feet swiftly carried him through the opening. More

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