It was a scene of morbid fascination I couldn’t look away from. My reflection in the mirror began to change and fall apart: My face turned brown, the skin cracking, quivering like a withered leaf in a strong, autumn wind. I couldn’t grasp what I was seeing at first. I was still holding the razor in my shaking, left hand, frozen in motion. My mouth was gaping open as if screaming in silence. My teeth had blackened and were falling out. Then, ever so slowly, the dried up skin began flaking away until I was sure I could see the bones protruding from underneath. At first a grimace, my reflection decayed into a skull, my eyes sunk into their sockets and seemed to glare back at me with satanic fury…

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