Andy

A chill passes through my being and causes a severe shiver as I step through the threshold. A large mirror is stuck to the far end of the room, to reflect our sins, which are unfortunately evident upon our complexions. I place the candle down with a clatter, I then set my gaze towards my mirrored self, which is filthy with past mistakes. Sweat encapsulates my body and dampens the back of my neck. I take in a deep breath as a desperate attempt to maintain sanity, but struggle to release it. Until, eventually, my body complies with my desires.

“Gay whore, gay whore, gay whore,” I gravely utter. As soon as the words drop from my mouth, I notice an intense change in scenery. The stark difference was pure insanity, with flowers sprinkled everywhere, and lovely patterns stamped onto the previously dull shower curtains. Before, the mat was balding like my grandfather had for the last 30 years or so, but it was restored to its former glory in a flash. The tiles were replaced to exhibit mosaics of flowers and other dainty and aesthetically pleasing images.