This might explain why I rarely got anyattention. My mother, when she wasn't berating me for my poor grades orlack of a social life, had often said th...t everyone had at least one goodquality. I'd always believed mine to be my eyes. But since I never lookedat anyone, only the ground ever got a good look at them.The woman in the mirror had my eyes, but they were even larger, perhapsmore expressive even. They were a woman's eyes, but they were still myeyes. And being a woman's eyes seemed to. Two nights later she returned, this time we talked when she appeared. She told me her name was Daphne, her main goal was to please me and take a small part of my being each time we met. She explained my “soul" was at risk but this was a concept I could not understand. Science has never proven a person to have an immortal soul, what she talked of made no sense, but she was very pretty and very persuasive so I agreed with everything she said. I really did not care what was at risk, the sex we. More

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