An old myth with an existential twist…
Art by Jesse D. Karshner
writing by d.john hopper

Narcissus
He slid his beaten face across the mucus-slick surface of the tired bathroom mirror. His broken lips moved furiously as he desperately tried to gobble up the essence of the boy facing him. He was a reflected transparency – wide-eyed, bloodied and trembling. He was a haunting with no flicker, a boy with no pulse. His hands fidgeted at the sink, as his bony hips swayed side to side in a mock, sickening dance – but his lips never left the mirror, never left the trails of blood covering the reflected transparency of his face: “I will never leave you. You know that, don’t you.” He whispered to himself: “Never”
Leave a Reply