It was his own reflection on a passing by car that caught his eye. Surprisingly (or perhaps not), he found some thing very Dorian Gray-ish about it. What had smiled back was his own image, distorted by a dark perspective. Was it anger and bitterness he saw in those eyes? No ... it wasn't that. Not quite. It seemed more of a resigned hollow sadness. Mixed with ... guilt? Perhaps.
The car swept by and his other self went along. Just like the picture of Dorian Gray, his reflection felt stowed away, separated by his own mask of reality. Considering it as a mere reflection, he prepared to forget all about it, until he must acknowledge what he saw.
The car swept by and his other self went along. Just like the picture of Dorian Gray, his reflection felt stowed away, separated by his own mask of reality. Considering it as a mere reflection, he prepared to forget all about it, until he must acknowledge what he saw.
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