With a yawn I awake from my deep slumber. I tried to situate myself in a way that would sooth my aching bones. With a groan I flopped over, facing the wall. To my utmost surprise I was face to face with a dirty man, looking as shocked and malnourished as I was. His face bore a brown beard that swallowed his mouth. His eyes vivid green eyes were opened wide in shock at the sight of me laying next to him. I scuttled away from him, and he replicated my hurried movements. I raised a hand in greeting and was stunned that his hand movements followed. We stood there, wary of each other. I moved closer, stretching out a hand to grasp a hold of the mane on his face and was intercepted by him attempting the same feat. Slightly annoyed at him mimicking my movements, I reached out to place my hand against his. He again read my mind but when we touched, I assumed his hand would feel rough, warm, and strong, but it felt like glass, cold, hard and smooth. I tried to convey to my acquaintance that we had a separation between us. I grew suspicious as he mouthed just that. Everything was too precise, to set up, he mimicked me too accurately. He was a fake, I was real. I realized my chin had always felt rough, I felt and I had an identical beard! I ran through my hair, agitated as it was copied. This must be another device, another hallucination. My back turned toward the lost man on my wall. I would not be tricked anymore, so reader, with many double takes, an idea whispers itself into my ear. Realization dawned on my, I was the man in the mirror, I had a reflection and I spent most the day intrigued at my rugged appearance. I slept peacefully that night, sure I would find out who I was.
